


Steps

by shadowfax044



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Growing Up, M/M, Parenthood, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:17:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1551833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowfax044/pseuds/shadowfax044
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(This is a fan sequel of the fan fiction <a><i>Breakneck</i></a> by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/methylethyl/pseuds/methylethyl">methylethyl</a>.)</p><p>Brian is faced with situations, responsibilities, and (God forbid) feelings that he never would have imagined he'd have to deal with. He just has to be sure he keeps moving forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Shock

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Breakneck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/209565) by [methylethyl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylethyl/pseuds/methylethyl). 



> Remember, this is a sequel (even though the first story isn't mine—methylethyl was nice enough to let me borrow her universe :), so you REALLY need to read Breakneck first. Seriously, none of this will make sense if you don't.
> 
> Also, this is picking up right at the end of the previous story, and since this is Brian's story, there will be a lot of back info that your missing, at least from his point of view. _Sections in italics are reminiscences—they're not really flashbacks, since Brian is telling about them, but he's deep enough into the memories that he's not sure what all he says out loud and what he's only thinking._ It's a little confusing, I know, but I think this works for his character. Brian doesn't talk about his thoughts and feelings, really, but he obviously does a lot of thinking and feeling, so this was the best way I could think of for readers to know everything without Brian being OOC.
> 
> The portions in parentheses are, for the most part, thoughts that Brian has involuntarily, or thoughts that he would rather deny ever having had.
> 
> And with that, I'll leave you to it. I hope you enjoy this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

* * *

 

Prologue: **Shock**

 

“Justin!”

 

He turned around just as the figure swung the bat, the bright smile on his face going out as the bat connected with his skull.

 

Before I consciously decided to do so, I’d followed the fucker, grabbed his bat, and swung with all my might at his knees. As soon as he was incapacitated—no _way_ he was getting away with this—I ran back to Justin, pulled out my phone, and dialed 911.

 

“Jus…. God, _no_.” When the emergency operator answered, I told her our location and that Justin was out cold with a head wound from assault. She dispatched an ambulance and police. As soon as she hung up, I dropped the phone and put my palm to the wound on Justin’s head.

 

Tears pooled in my eyes as I whispered, “No, no, nonononono. Justin…. _God_!”

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

I lost track of time before the ambulance arrived. The EMTs quickly wrapped the small-looking blonde’s head in gauze to staunch the bleeding, and a cop kept watch while another ambulance worker took a look at Hobbs’ (dislocated) knee.

 

“Excuse me, you can’t ride in the ambulance, sir!” a female EMT tried to tell me.

 

“The _fuck_ I can’t,” I answered, deadly calm.

 

She huffed impatiently. “Are you related to the patient?”

 

“He’s… mine.”

 

I could tell that she didn’t quite get what I was trying to say. Hell, _I_ wasn’t sure what I meant, exactly. But there was no way I was leaving him. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Just try to keep out of the way.”

 

For a moment, I considered snapping back in reply, but I just didn’t have the energy. Instead, I climbed in and waited for them to lift Sunshine in on the stretcher.

 

(Come on, Sunshine. Be alright…. Please.)

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

“Jennifer.” The blonde woman—who looked so like the man lying in a nearby OR—turned at the sound of her name. We’d only spoken on a few occasions, and I knew she still didn’t approve of me, but I had known she’d need to be here. When she got closer, I asked, “Where’s Luke?”

 

Jennifer wiped a tear from her cheek. “Debbie’s looking after him and Molly. I… didn’t tell her about Justin—I told her he was with you.” She took a shuddering breath. “How is he?”

 

I shrugged. “I’m not family, so they probably wouldn’t tell me anyway, but no one has been by since—” I choked up a little but managed to finish, “Since they took him to surgery.”

 

She wearily sunk into the seat next to the one I’d been in, and I followed suit. We lost all track of time while the beautiful blonde was being patched up a couple hundred feet away.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Several hours later, after three in the morning, a doctor finally came by. I tried to ignore the blood on him that I knew belonged to Justin. Jennifer and I stood together to greet the man.

 

“Are you here for Justin Taylor?” he asked.

 

We both nodded, and Jennifer asked, “How… how is my son?”

 

At the indication of a close familial relation, the doctor relaxed and began to speak. “We’ve managed to stop the bleeding, and we were able to assess the damage. We gave him a transfusion to counteract the blood loss. He’s in recovery, but he is currently in a coma. It may be anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks before his body is ready to wake up again.” He paused for a moment before adding softly, “There was a degree of damage to the brain.”

 

Jennifer might have said or done something, but I was too caught up in an emotional wave of my own to know for certain. I refused to let my voice catch as I asked, “How much damage?”

 

He tilted his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Brain injuries are nearly impossible for us to interpret prior to a patient regaining consciousness. We won’t know about memory loss, cognitive problems, or motor skill issues until Justin comes out of the coma. I _can_ tell you that the affected area of the brain includes a small portion of the motor control center, so it is likely that he will need some form of physical therapy. How extensive that therapy will need to be cannot be determined before Justin wakes. But the auditory and sensory areas of the brain were not damaged, so other than some possible memory loss and the need for physical therapy, I doubt he’ll face any other problems.”

 

“So, he _will_ wake up, then?” Jennifer asked.

 

(Sunshine… you _have_ to be okay.)

 

The doctor sighed— _not_ a good sign. “There _is_ a possibility that he will remain in the coma permanently. There’s no way to predict when or if he will regain consciousness. But I won’t be concerned about the possibility of Justin never waking up unless a month passes with no signs of improvement. Brain injuries are very serious, so Justin’s body will be devoting all of its energy to repairing the damage before allowing him to wake.”

 

There was a moment of quiet between us before Jennifer asked if we could see him. The doctor directed us to the floor Justin would be transferred to in the next half hour, and then he returned to his duties for the evening.

 

I walked with Jennifer to her son’s room in silence.

 


	2. Reaction

Chapter One: **Reaction**

 

When we got to Debbie’s, it was just before five o’clock, but she was already up for the day, as she had an early shift at the diner. Jennifer sat Deb down in the living room to explain what had happened to Justin while I went upstairs to look in on Luke.

 

He was sleeping peacefully (as was Molly, who was on the twin bed), and I didn’t want to wake him, but… I gently pulled him out of his crib and immediately held him close to me, trying to avoid the cries over being dangled in the air, which he still hadn’t grown out of. His eyes opened for a few seconds, but he went right back to sleep on my shoulder. I paced around Justin’s old room for a while until I was sure he was out again, and then I walked slowly downstairs.

 

Debbie and Jennifer were both crying a little, but Jennifer perked up some when she saw her grandson. “He’s asleep,” I whispered to her. Jennifer nodded softly and went to wake Molly so they could go home and get some rest before heading back to the hospital.

 

As Jennifer went upstairs, I looked at Debbie. I didn’t totally understand the look she was giving me until she said, “You just needed to hold him.”

 

Rolling my lips in and lowering my eyes, I nodded slightly. _No point in denying it. Ma always knows._

 

Debbie was on the phone with Melanie, spreading the news, when Justin’s mother and sister came downstairs, the young strawberry-blonde rubbing her eyes tiredly and grumbling quietly. Jen was about to take Luke from me when Debbie called out quietly, “Jennifer, honey, you might as well sit down. Mel says she needs to speak to you and Brian in her capacity as Justin’s lawyer.”

 

My head snapped over to Debbie at those words. _You stupid twat. You didn’t…. Shit, you **did**!_

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

A little over half an hour later, Melanie, Jennifer, and I sat in the living room while Debbie and Vic (who had woken up since the call to the munchers and had since been filled in) taught Molly to make enough breakfast for an army. Melanie pulled some papers out of her briefcase and cleared her throat.

 

“After Brian became temporary guardian over Luke’s inheritance but before Christmas, Justin asked me about wills, living wills, and powers of attorney. We met up and had the appropriate documents made.” She sighed and looked at me somewhat accusingly. “I tried to talk Justin out of it, but he insisted that Brian be given his power of attorney, with the stipulation that his mother be made aware of any medical conditions resulting in his incapacitation. But he was adamant that Brian be responsible for his medical decisions should he be unable to make them.”

 

 _Sunshine, I know you trust me, but… this?_ I wasn’t sure his trust was properly placed, but it made me… proud? Well, it was the closest I could get to the correct word. It made me proud that he could put such faith in me.

 

(It also scared the shit out of me.)

 

Jennifer looked hurt, concerned, and something else I couldn’t name, but Melanie didn’t stop there. “There’s also the matter of what will happen if Justin doesn’t wake up.”

 

“NO!” I yelled, standing up. “If he chose me, I won’t do it, dammit. I… I _can’t_ ….”

 

Melanie sighed. “You don’t have a choice, Brian. He’s left it up to you.”

 

I shook my head. No _fucking_ way was I going to be responsible for ending Sunshine’s life. “He’s going to wake up, so it’s irrelevant. Move the _fuck_ on, Mel.”

 

For a moment, I thought she was going to object, but she thought better of it. _Good choice, bitch._

 

“The final matter I need to discuss with you is Luke’s guardianship.”

 

Jennifer’s breathing hitched. “He… he doesn’t want Luke staying with me, does he?”

 

Melanie ignored that for a moment and called Vic and Debbie into the room. Molly came along, as well, but she was pretty much ignored by the bull dyke. “Justin would like for Vic and Debbie to split care of Luke during the daytime when and if they can manage that. He’s expressed that Luke is used to the environment of the house, and he’d like to keep as much stability as possible, but that he doesn’t want it to be an inconvenience.”

 

Vic had gotten a part-time job as a chef at a restaurant in town and was working opposite days as Debbie recently, but as Justin only had three days left of school, that schedule was going to pick up soon.

 

Deb spoke up. “We can look after him today and tomorrow, and Tuesday, but the rest of the coming week, we’re working the same shifts. Justin was going to ask Jennifer to watch the baby Monday and Wednesday.”

 

“Oh! I… didn’t realize,” Jennifer said, obviously pleased that her son was going to ask her to watch her grandson. “But… I have to work. I won’t be able to watch him!”

 

Mel sighed in defeat again. “Well, for overnight and whenever other arrangements can’t be made….”

 

“He wants me.”

 

“God knows _why_ ,” Mel barked at me, “but, yes. Justin would like Luke to stay with Brian overnight and whenever other regular care givers are not available.” She stared at me, her eyes looking like they’d like to burn holes in me. “Are you going to accept this responsibility? Because legally, we’ll have to give someone else guardianship of Luke if you can’t handle this.”

 

“I _know_ how to take care of Luke, dammit. Justin’s left Luke with me before, when everyone else was busy and he really needed someone to watch him. So, yes, I’ll do it.”

 

Mel nodded. “Since Justin specifically asked for you to look after Luke, and because he re-signed the paperwork after his eighteenth birthday, you won’t have to be interviewed for competency by anyone from the city. Until such time as Justin is able to look after Luke, you will officially be the child’s guardian.” She stood and glared at me. “ _Don’t_ fuck this up!”

 

Not wanting to be yelled at any longer for no fucking reason, I went upstairs to get Luke from his crib and start packing together what he’d need to come stay with me. Deb arrived a couple minutes later.

 

“You know, I _did_ say that Vic and I can watch him this weekend.”

 

I shook my head, simultaneously stuffing Luke’s blanket into the diaper bag. “I’m taking him with me to the loft to set him up there, I’m napping, and then I’m taking Luke to see his father at the hospital.”

 

“Do you… really think it’s a good idea for Luke to see his daddy like that?”

 

Looking at her as seriously as I could, I said quietly, “I think it’s a good idea for Justin’s son to be there for him while he’s recovering.”

 

She smiled slowly. “I think it’ll be good for Sunshine to have _both_ his guys there for him.”

 

For some reason, I didn’t say anything to correct her.

 

(Because Ma’s always right, remember?)

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

It was around noon when Luke and I got back to the hospital. Emmett was sitting next to Justin’s bed, Ted standing on the other side. They seemed to be having a conversation with each other but directing every other sentence to Justin.

 

“Is there a reason you’re conversing with someone who can’t respond? Should we call in a shrink for you queens?”

 

Emmett huffed, “There’s no way of knowing whether or not Justin can hear us.”

 

I raised an eyebrow and asked, “Theodore, did you hear anything while in your coma?”

 

He shrugged. “I don’t remember specific words, but I know people were there. There’s nothing to say that Justin can’t hear us. Maybe knowing that we miss him and are here supporting him will help him get better faster. After all, you’d just been to see me when I woke up.” He got that mischievous look in his eye, a small grin on his face as he added, “Maybe I woke up just so I could kick you out of my room and not have to listen to your voice anymore.”

 

“Ha… ha ha. You’re hilarious, Ted.” I shifted Luke over to my other arm, and the boys seemed to notice him for the first time.

 

“Bri,” Emmett said slowly, “why do _you_ have Luke?”

 

I nodded my head to the (beautiful) blonde in the hospital bed. “Sunshine named me temporary guardian should he be unable to take care of Luke.” I shrugged, trying to make it look like I didn’t think that much of it (even though I knew all along that it was a _huge fucking deal_ ).

 

Emmett seemed surprised, but Ted just nodded. Since he’d picked me to be the one to choose whether he’d live or die, I supposed he could understand why Justin had had enough trust in me to look after his kid. Fuck knew that _I_ didn’t understand it.

 

After a couple moments uncomfortable silence, Emmett stood and said, “Well, gentlemen, I should be on my way. I have to work this afternoon.” He leaned down to kiss Justin on his cheek. “I’ll be by later to see you, Baby. Get better soon—we miss you.”

 

Emmett left, and I set Luke down on the bed next to his dad. Pulling the chair Emmy Lou had sat in closer to the bed, I asked Ted, “When did you get here?”

 

He shifted in his chair, possibly trying to get comfortable, then shrugged. “Twenty minutes ago, maybe.”

 

I nodded, but didn’t answer. Luke started babbling at his father, seemingly confused about why Justin wasn’t waking up. A few moments later, he turned to me and said, “Bi!”

 

Smiling slightly at Luke’s version of my name, I asked, “Yeah, little man?”

 

“Bi!” he repeated. He turned to Justin, patted his arm, and asked, “Dadada?”

 

Completely forgetting that we weren’t alone in the room, I brushed Luke’s hair back and said, “Daddy’s sick, little man. He needs to sleep so that he gets better.”

 

He seemed to think about that for a moment before asking, “Bi, wan Po!”

 

Laughing a little, I reached into the diaper bag and pulled out Po, Luke’s hippo, handing it to Luke. He happily stuck a leg in his mouth and turned back to watch his dad sleep.

 

“You’re really good with him, you know?”

 

I started at the sound of Ted’s voice, and, amazingly, I could feel a light blush creep up my cheeks. Luckily for Theodore, he didn’t comment on it. I ignored his observation, though, and instead asked, “You really don’t remember what anyone said while you were in your coma?”

 

He shifted in his seat for a moment. “Well… no words. I remember hearing sounds, voices. And I know for sure that I heard Emmett and Debbie and my mom talking, but I have no idea what they said, or even if they were talking _to me_. But… I’d guess that Justin knows people have been here.” He looked at me, took a deep breath, and continued, “I’m positive that he knows you and Luke are here. And I’m willing to bet that knowing you’re here is helping him to hang on, to fight to wake up again.”

 

Still, I said nothing, but I appreciated the information Ted had given me. A minute later, he stood and came over to my side of Justin’s bed, dropped his hand gently on my shoulder, and said, “He’s gonna be alright, Bri. He loves you and Luke too much to leave you.”

 

(I’ll never tell Theodore, but those words were appreciated—and taken to heart—more than he could possibly imagine.)

 

When Theodore had left, I reminisced with the two blondes about all we’d been through in the last nine months.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_I remember celebrating together after your SATs, Sunshine. That was the night I’d had Kip Thomas over at my place. You know, I really meant it just to be business. I’d already fucked him in my office, so I wasn’t expecting to do it again. But he must have planned on it, because he laid himself out on my bed before I even knew what was happening, and you’d just gotten me so horny with your talk about butt plugs and me fucking you all night… so I did it anyway. Fucking stupid-ass thing to do, but it’s over now, at least._

_Anyway, we met up at Babylon, and you were so… so fucking uninhibited that night. Not that you usually hold back, but I’d never seen you that_ free _, either._

“Luke, did you know your daddy is one amazing-ass dancer?”

_So we fucked in the backroom, and_ god _, you were so loud. We actually got applauded that night, can you believe it? That rarely happens in the back room, because the guys are usually more worried about their own orgasms._

_And then I took you back to the loft and we fucked like rabbits all night. I swear, we must have both come like ten times that night. You… actually wore me out that night, you know. Our first night together, you came pretty damn close, but that night you managed it. You’re fucking amazing in bed, Sunshine._

_The next morning, we met Daphne and Luke for breakfast, and the domestic shit was getting a little too much for me, so I left. But not before hearing Luke say his second word. You got him to say “Bye!” to me and wave. And you know, I realized later that that’s the same thing he calls me: “Bi.” I don’t know if that’s more than a coincidence, but it makes me feel fucking_ proud _that your kid’s second word was the same thing he uses for my name._

_That’s fucking amazing, Sunshine._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_I’ve never seen anything fucking hotter than you when you’re desperate for me to fuck you._

_There’ve only been a few times that I can specifically remember—at the hospital after Sara died, the night you told me about Luke, once you’d fully recovered from Hobbs attacking you at the Big Q, when you got your acceptance letters—but each time, I’m so fucking turned on. It makes me so hot for you that_ **I** _can make you like that: writhing and begging, pushing back against me as I try to prepare you as quickly as you want but without hurting you, panting my name as I push inside you, coming more than once while I fuck you._

_God, I’m so fucking horny right now just thinking about it._

_You’re gonna have a lot of time to make up for once your good as new, Sunshine, so you’d better get ready for that._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_That first night you came back to Liberty Ave after Sara died, when you tried to manipulate me into giving you a ride home, I totally should have expected that that’s where you were going with that conversation. You know I can rarely say no to my dick, and you use that to your advantage._

_Be careful of how often and with whom you use that skill, Sunshine—finding a weakness and exploiting it. It could get that perky little ass of yours in a world of trouble._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_You know, Sunshine, when I was in the middle of the sexual harassment suit, and you knew that Mikey and I were fighting and Linz had too much of her own shit going on… you came over just to spend time with me and make me feel less like shit. I… thanks, Jus._

_And when I kicked you and Luke out… I went a little insane for a minute. But… when you were about to leave, and you came back to kiss me and tell me to be safe… it actually helped calm me down a bit. I went a little less over the top with the drugs and the Beam because you’d told me you wanted me safe. So… thanks for that, too._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Debbie and Emmett showed up for an early dinner, bringing food for me and Luke, as well as for themselves. When they got there, Luke was sitting on the bed next to Justin, my cell phone held up to his face and babbling away almost without pause.

 

Emmett smiled widely at the kid. “Who’s he talking to?”

 

Chuckling lightly, I shook my head. “Nobody. He’s been doing this for about a month now. He’ll take my phone whenever he sees it lying around and act like he’s talking to someone on it. Justin says he’s imitating me, because Luke only ever really sees me with a cell phone.”

 

“That’s fucking adorable, is what that is,” Debbie said softly as she passed out containers of lasagna.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_The Friday night before your first art show, the one at the GLC, you happened to catch me at Woody’s alone because Mikey hadn’t shown up yet, and we weren’t meeting Theodore and Emmy Lou until later._

_Two things stick out to me about that night. It was the first time you stood up to me. I said I wouldn’t go to the show the next week, and you sniped back at me._

_Good for you._

_And the other thing I remember is sending you out to my Jeep with your art and disappearing on you before you could get back. I was… worried that if I was still there when you came back inside that it would look to you—and, I’ll admit, to the rest of Woody’s patrons that night—like I was waiting for you._

_In my mind at the time, my rep had already taken a hit that night because of agreeing to take your sketches to Linz. I didn’t want to make it worse._

_I was an idiot and an asshole. And even more stupidly, I walked out on you when I probably could have gotten a really great blowjob for taking that stuff to Lindsey for you. Hindsight, and all that, right?_

_And the night of the show, you asked me if I’d looked at your stuff before I gave it to Lindsey. Since you probably won’t remember me telling you this… I almost did, but then my inner lesbian decided that I wanted the full effect of seeing it framed and hung up at the show. So, no, I hadn’t peeked._

_But I wanted to._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_Remember when we fucked at the hospital, just after Ted had woken up and Luke’s mom had died? It was an amazing fuck, but… you scared the shit out of me, you know._

_After we’d finished and I saw that you’d been crying, I realized how rough I had been. And I know you kept telling me that it was okay, that you’d wanted it like that…. It’s just I’ve always been careful not to hurt anyone physically, no matter how much of an asshole I am otherwise. The idea that I’d hurt you…._

_And then it was even worse, when I thought that you thought_ **I** _wanted it like that, that I would actually_ **enjoy** _hurting you. I… can’t even describe how that made me feel, Sunshine. When you told me that you didn’t think that of me… I can only remember feeling more relief a few times in my life (finding out early this morning that you were going to be okay is among those)._

_Of course, after I found out about Luke and you told me that his mom had died that night we fucked at the hospital, I realized what it was about—pain management, and wanting to really_ feel _something. But at the time, I was scared shitless that I’d really hurt you._

_Don’t ever let me hurt you._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_It just occurred to me that when we fucked in the bathroom at the GLC after that fight about whether or not you were a masochist…._

_That was our first make-up sex. And not just ‘ours,’ but both of our firsts separately, as well._

_It was pretty fucking hot, too, as I recall._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

 _After the shit with Hobbs at the Big Q—by the way, I’m_ still _not convinced you didn’t have anything to do with Thomas dropping the sexual harassment suit—I didn’t leave as soon as you’d fallen asleep. I stayed and talked to Luke until he fell asleep, and I… I watched you both sleep while I waited for Deb and Vic to get home._

_When I told them what had happened to you, Debbie went upstairs and quietly checked in on you. She even set up the baby monitor between your room and hers in case Luke woke up in the middle of the night. And while she was upstairs, Vic and I talked._

_Well, it was more like_ he _talked and made me listen. He’s… far too perceptive, you know? Somehow he always just_ knows _things, even when you think you haven’t given him any reason to figure it out._

_He told me that… I’m in love with you. (And in case you don’t remember, the next time you called me, I didn’t pick up. I… didn’t know what to say, how to act, knowing that it was possible that I…. And I wasn’t sure what Vic had told you, so…. Yeah.)_

_I don’t know if he’s right, but… I was going to tell you that he thinks so. I was going to tell you after Prom. I was going to ask you to come to the loft when you’d dropped Daphne off for the night, and… I was going to ask you if you think Vic’s right. If you think it's even_ possible _that he could be right._

_Do you, Sunshine?_

_That night was the first time I kissed Luke goodbye, too._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

 _The night your dad—excuse me,_ Craig _—beat me up, I remember hearing you shouting at him about not wanting Luke to be raised in his house._

_You said you loved me._

_Just thought you should know that I remember that._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

 _Don’t tell Deb or Emmett, but when they asked—or, rather,_ **begged** _—me to find you and make sure you were alright, that first time I showed up at St. James after the school day was over… I’d already been thinking for more than a week that someone should try to find you._

_The fact that you jerked me off in the parking lot in broad daylight when a couple hundred students were around made the lesbianic nature of that particular errand so much more bearable._

_So thanks for that._

_And, yeah, obviously my underwear and jeans got cum all over them, but it’s not like they couldn’t be cleaned. The stains came out just fine. I was being a little bit of a drama queen._

_You tell anyone that I admitted to that, and I’ll tie your balls so tight that they’ll ache for a week._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

 God, giving Luke Taylor a bath is a _nightmare_!

 

“Shit, kid, could you _please_ stop queening out? God, you’re _just_ like your daddy, you know that? Everything is always such a big fucking deal. It’s just water, Luke—get over it!”

 

Of course, the kid didn’t listen to me, but trying to talk over his wailing at least kept me occupied while I tried to get the little drama princess clean. Finally, he had been soaped, shampooed, and rinsed, and I pulled him out of the kitchen sink (ever since having Luke over on a regular basis, having no bathtub in the loft had become an issue for the first time) and wrapped him quickly in a towel. By the time I’d dried off every single droplet of water, the wails had subsided into sniffles, and I was pleased to note that he’d at least not gotten the hiccups from his tantrum.

 

“Come on, little man. Time for a fresh diaper, pajamas, a quick story, and then bedtime for Luke and Brian.” I laughed for a moment while I dressed him. “You know, that must be genetic, too, ‘cause your daddy is the only other man who’s ever worn me out.” I nestled Luke at my shoulder and stage-whispered, “Don’t tell him that, though. He thinks he only ‘almost wears me out,’ and I don’t want to ruin my rep.”

 

When I’d put him in the crib and grabbed a book, I turned back to Luke and added, “Although, he always seems to know things even when no one tells him a fucking thing, so he might know that already. Better keep it quiet, though. Just in case.”

 

I read to Luke until he dozed off; it took about ten minutes and six pages of _The Secret Garden_ (Justin’s choice, not mine, just so everyone is aware of that). Once I’d put out the lights in the loft, showered, and gotten into my own bed, it was only about eight thirty in the evening. The last time I’d gone to bed that early I’d been sick with pneumonia, but I was fucking _exhausted_. And I knew that Luke would be up again at around seven the next morning, so I laid my head down and was asleep within minutes.

 


	3. Slipping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the wait. The last week or two has just been one thing after another. But here's the next chapter, and I should have one more ready to post today, too. Enjoy!

* * *

 

Chapter Two: **Slipping**

 

When I woke up, I was completely disoriented.

I could feel panic spreading through my body, but I didn’t know the source. Every muscle in my body was tensed to… do _something_ , but I didn’t know what.

The sheets were definitely mine (I’d never slept in another bed with sheets that were up to my standards except hotel beds, and I knew from the smell that I was home), but the face of my alarm clock was in the wrong spot, and there was a snuffling sound coming from my right.

Then I remembered that Luke was here tonight, and based on where I could hear his soft crying and where the alarm clock was…

I’d gotten turned sideways in bed.

I _never_ moved that much when I was asleep.

And then I noticed the drying sweat on my body, recognized Luke’s ‘scared cry,’ and remembered the nightmare that had woken me up.

I quickly jumped out of bed and went to take Luke out of his crib.

“Hey, little guy, it’s alright. Brian’s here. Don’t cry, Luke, everything’s okay.” I continued to murmur softly to him, attempting to comfort him (and myself). I realized I must have been crying and shouting in my dream—the shouts would have scared Luke, and there were drying tear tracks down my face.

Still holding Luke, I called the fourth floor of the hospital that was treating Justin.

“Allegheny General, fourth floor, Nurse Alexis speaking.”

I took a deep breath. “This is Brian Kinney. I know it’s late, but… could you give me any updates on Justin Taylor, please? He’s in room 4022.”

The nurse paused for a moment before saying, “The boy who was attacked, right?”

I gulped. “Yeah, that’s Jus. Is he… is there any change?”

“Let me go check on him for you. It’ll be just a moment.” She placed me on hold as she did so.

While her end of the line was quiet, I said to Luke, “The nurse is going to check on Daddy, just to be sure he’s okay.”

“Dada, Bi! Wan Dada!”

“I know you do, Luke,” I answered softly. Dropping my voice so that it was nearly inaudible, I added, “So do I.”

The nurse came back on the line then and said, “He’s doing just fine, Mr. Kinney. No change since this evening.”

I realized then that the nurses must have been talking about me. I’d been the one to come in with him the night before—I checked the clock, and yes, it was only eleven—and I’d spent nearly eight hours there today with Luke. It was a little uncomfortable knowing that I was the talk of the floor, but I supposed it was a small sacrifice to make to be sure that Luke and Justin were together as much as possible.

(And that I got to be with the both of them, too.)

Sighing softly, I said, “Thank you. I appreciate your checking on him for me.”

“Was there a particular reason you called, Mr. Kinney?”

“It’s Brian,” I requested. “And… I just wanted to be sure….”

Her voice was sympathetic, rather than pitying (good thing, or I’d have hung up on her), when she answered, “I understand. My nephew spent several weeks in the hospital about three years ago. I used to wake up afraid that I’d never see him again.”

“Hmmm.” After a moment, I admitted, “I just wanted to be sure. For Luke, you know.”

“That your kid? Penny, the second shift nurse, told me about the baby you had with you today.”

“He’s—” For a moment, I got choked up, but I cleared my throat and started again. “Luke is Justin’s son. Justin… named me Luke’s guardian if he couldn’t….”

She seemed to understand. “He must trust you a lot to leave his kid with you.”

“Yeah,” I practically whispered, looking at Luke’s drooping eyes and realizing that I’d need to lay him back down in a minute. “Can… can I ask you to call me immediately if there’s any change? Good or bad, I want to know as soon as possible.”

There was a smile in her voice when she answered. “Certainly, Brian. We have Justin’s POA on file. And I’ll make a note in his chart to call you ASAP if and when there are changes in his condition.”

I sighed in relief and gave her my cell number. “Thank you, Alexis. I really appreciate it.”

“Sure thing, Brian. You and Luke get some rest now. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and you’ll want to be in tomorrow as soon as visiting hours start, I suspect.”

I smiled self-deprecatingly for a moment. “Yeah. You’ll probably be home by then, right?”

“Home and asleep, yep. But it was nice to get to talk to you, Brian, even if we don’t get to see each other in person. Have a good night.”

“Later,” I said just before hanging up. I dropped my cell onto the bed and took Luke back to his crib.

(I kissed his head before laying him down.)

Once Justin’s son was settled in again, I went back to bed, hoping that I’d get through the rest of the night _sans_ nightmares, but not really expecting that to happen.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

As it turned out, I was lucky enough not to dream any more that night. Luke and I were both well-rested despite the break in our sleep, and we were down at the diner for breakfast about forty-five minutes before visiting hours at the hospital would start.

Lindsey, Mel, Gus, and Theodore were seated in a booth at the front of the diner when I arrived, so I took Luke over to join them.

“Brian!” Linz said, sounding surprised. “ _You’re_ here early, for a Sunday.”

Sam came up with a high chair and took my drink order—a coffee—and I settled Luke into the seat. “Visiting hours start at nine. I wanted to be sure to feed Luke before we go.”

Lindsey looked even more shocked at that. I turned to Gus, kissed his forehead, and said, “Good morning, Sonny Boy.” I noticed then that Luke was staring at Gus with fascination, and I chuckled. I reached into the diaper bag to pull out Luke’s breakfast and started feeding it to him, ignoring the conversation until, several minutes and a few mishaps with the spoon later, Theodore pulled me into it.

He smiled and said, “Debbie told me that she went by to see Justin last night. Said the doctor is impressed with his progress so far.”

I nodded while Mel said, “Thank _God_. I hope Justin wakes up soon.”

“Poor Luke must really be missing him.” Lindsey’s tone was both pitying, which I hate, and disapproving.

My control over my emotions, which had already been tenuous for the last thirty-six hours, snapped.

“And just why the fuck do you think Luke and I were there all day yesterday and are going back today?” I asked, my tone offended. “I know the kid needs his father, Lindsey. And I know that it might help Justin get better to have his son there with him. I’m not completely incompetent, you know.”

“God, Brian, shut _up_ ,” Mel practically growled at me. “Just because you can _handle_ taking care of Luke doesn’t mean it’s _good_ for him to be left in your care. We want Justin to wake up so that he can go back to providing for his kid.”

I stood up and started getting ready for me and Luke to leave. “ _Fuck. You._ It’s not _Justin’s_ fault that he was bashed and is in a coma, you self-righteous cunt.” I was so grateful at that moment that I was angry—it kept my voice from cracking as I talked out loud about what had been done to Justin. I took a deep breath and went on. “Mel, god, do you really think Justin is stupid enough to leave his year-old son with someone who wouldn’t be good for him? Justin is the most responsible and loving parent that I’ve ever met, so, yeah, I might not be _as good_ , but obviously I’m more than adequate, or Justin would have left guardianship of Luke to someone else. Just because you don’t even trust me with my _own_ son doesn’t mean that everyone else is as fucking blind and idiotic as _you_ are.”

And with that, I picked the littlest Taylor up and left the diner, leaving behind only my parting words and a twenty dollar bill to cover my half-drunk coffee.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

We were too early for visiting hours, but the nurses recognized me, and they knew that Luke was a pretty quiet baby, so they let us in to see Justin on the condition that I didn’t tattle on them.

From what I could understand from the machines, Justin’s pulse was a little quicker and stronger today, which was good because it had been weak and slow since the attack two nights ago.

(God, was it only two nights ago? It felt like years, or maybe seconds, from when the bat connected with his beautiful blonde head.)

Around half past nine, the doctor came in to do his rounds. He assured me that the odds of Justin waking up in the next week or so were looking very good, and that he had high hopes for a quick recovery following his regaining consciousness. When the doctor left, I celebrated by talking about another memory with the two blonds.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_Back to the night you told me about Luke—_ fuck _, a lot happened that night, didn’t it? Anyway, you told me that you’d kept Luke a secret because you thought I’d never fuck you again if I knew. You were going on and on about staying away from me if I’d just help you that one time, how I’d never have to see you again._

_Second-scariest moment of my life (tied with the night that I thought we’d lose Gus), for two reasons. One, because I didn’t want to never see you again. And two, because I realized that I actually_ cared _enough to not want to never see you again._

_Seeing you take that bat to the head was the only thing that ever terrified me more._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_The day you planned to mail in your college applications, Sunshine… yeah, that was a memorable day. It was the day you proved to me just how fit you were to raise Luke. Not that I was questioning you before, but… you tend to have moments when you make everyone around you aware of just how strong and smart and capable you are. That was one of those moments._

_And I find it amusingly ironic that, as you were talking about sacrificing your own dreams to provide for Luke, he was taking his very first literal steps in the world._

_I’m… honored? Yeah, I think that’s the word. I’m honored that I got to see his first steps, and that I was the first one you shared that pride and happiness with. I meant what I said—he’s very intelligent, Jus._

_He takes after his daddy._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_On Christmas, when you cuddled up to me on the couch, and I told you to give me a lap dance or get off?_

_I didn’t really want you to move._

_Thank God, or whoever-the-fuck, that you refused to listen to me._

_Don’t ever listen to me when I talk shit like that, Sunshine._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_I hope you aren’t mad at your fag hag and I about the Carnegie Mellon and PIFA applications. Justin, you’re_ so incredibly smart _. It’s only right that you go to the most prestigious school available. The only thing we forged was your signature—the essays were all yours, you already had the portfolio ready, and the rest was only filling out an application, anyway. And don’t worry about the application fees—consider it my birthday present for you, since I didn’t actually_ buy _you anything._

_Although I’m sure you liked my little gift better than anything I could have bought for you, anyway._

_And I know you’re still freaking out about the financial stuff, but remember: the inheritance affects your FAFSA this year, but it doesn’t have any bearing next year. So you may have to pay in full for your first two semesters, but you’ll probably get a lot of assistance next year, because of your low income and the fact that you’ve got a son to take care of._

_I know you want that money for Luke when he graduates high school. But don’t worry—you’ll earn back every penny you spend on your education and_ then _some. He’ll never want for anything._

_Not with you for a father._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_I don’t remember much about the first time I saw Luke, since I was still pretty out of it from my encounter with Craig’s fists. But I_ do _remember thinking that, with that head of bright blonde hair, he was definitely yours, no question._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_Your eighteenth birthday… I almost let you top me as your present._

_But then I remembered all of your talk about dildos, and butt plugs, and anal beads, and it gave me an excuse to give you a different sexual experience, instead._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Debbie, Jennifer, Molly, and Emmett all showed up around lunch time. Deb, of course, came bearing food for all of Sunshine’s visitors, including Luke, so the six of us ate together and talked (or babbled, in Luke’s case).

Jennifer asked what I planned on doing about Luke while I was working the next day, and I mentioned the day care that my office provided as a courtesy for the executives. I planned on dropping Luke off there on any days that Debbie, Vic, and Jennifer were all unavailable to look after the mini-blond.

When the three women had left about an hour later, Emmett kept Luke occupied with a toy while he struck up a conversation with me. “I heard about your little argument at the diner this morning.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “There was no argument. There was Lindsey insinuating that I wasn’t as good for Luke as Justin is, and Melanie accusing me of being an unfit guardian altogether, and me defending Justin’s decisions. Then I left. No arguing involved.”

“Whatever,” Emmett said, rolling his eyes but keeping focused on the kid. “My point is, Teddy told me about what the girls said.” He looked up then. “He and I agree with you, you know. Justin might be young, but he knew what he was doing. And you’ve been great with Luke, even though it’s only been a day and a half. You shouldn’t let what Lindsey and Mel think or say get to you. Lindsey is just too much of a WASP to approve of Justin being a single teenage father. And Melanie’s just upset with you over the whole Lindsey-being-in-love-with-you thing, and the refusing-to-give-up-your-rights-to-Gus thing. But they’re both idiots. What they think doesn’t matter.”

Trying to keep my tone neutral, so that I didn’t upset Luke, I said, “So, because I refuse to give up my child, to let him think that I don’t care about him— _that_ makes me an unfit guardian? Mel’s so full of bullshit!”

Em nodded. “I know. And she probably knows it, too. But it’s also about the fact that Lindsey hasn’t gotten over her college fantasy of being a family with you, and Melanie thinks that you not giving up your rights to Gus is a step in that direction.”

That stopped me cold. After a few minutes thinking about what he’d said, I asked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Emmett shrugged. “On some level, I guess, Lindsey apparently still wants to marry you and be the ‘happy hetero family,’ according to Mel. Of course, I’m repeating what Teddy told me, but he and Mel are pretty close, so I think he can tell when she’s bullshitting and when she isn’t. We all know that Lindsey has a little too much interest in you for a friendship. Frankly, I wasn’t that surprised to hear Teddy say that.”

“Why the _hell_ would Lindsey think I’d be interested in being with her? Firstly, we all know I can’t _stand_ pussy. And secondly, if I _were_ straight, Lindsey would _not_ be the kind of woman I’d go for. I’d marry my assistant, Cynthia, long before I’d consider marrying Linz.”

“Well,” Emmett suggested, shifting Luke’s weight from one leg to the other, “maybe you should tell her that. Although, really, I think she knows. She just doesn’t know how to let go of the idea.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “And why the _hell_ is this even an issue?! Linz is a lesbian, for god’s sake!”

“Apparently she’s far more bi-sexual than she’d like the rest of us to believe. It would explain why she didn’t have too much of a problem agreeing to marry that French idiot.”

Yeah, _that_ was an adventure. I had to flat-out tell Linz that if she married the Frog, I’d take her to court over custody of Gus because I didn’t want him raised in a house where the parents weren’t willing to admit who they were. She had, of course, caved, and she and Mel had since gotten back together, though their relationship was still really rocky. Mel’s cheating and Lindsey’s stupidity were huge obstacles for them to overcome, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure if they’d be able to do it.

Pinching my nose with my thumb and forefinger, I asked, “The frog was gay, too. What the fuck is with Lindsey and thinking she could be a happy hetero with a gay man?”

Emmett didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Obviously Lindsey had some serious issues to work through, and as much as I wish differently, I couldn’t fix everything. She and Melanie would have to figure this one out on their own.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Luke and I got to Ryder Advertizing early the next morning. I had to ask the front secretary where the day care was, which was slightly embarrassing, but I was grateful we’d gotten there so early. Even if I had to ask for directions, I still had plenty of time to get Luke settled before I needed to be in my office.

There were about five other kids in the room when we got to the day care center. One of the women in the room came up to me. I introduced myself and told her that I’d emailed ahead about dropping off a one-year-old with them that day. She told me she had seen the email, and then she smiled at Luke and asked, “And who is this handsome boy?”

“This,” I said, looking at the little man in my arms, “is Luke Taylor. He’s the son of… a friend of mine. I’m taking care of him for a while, and I don’t have any other arrangements for him while I’m at work today. I’ll also need to bring him here on Wednesday, if that’s alright.”

The brunette woman smiled at me. “Certainly. My name is Miss Leanne. Do you have an approximate time frame that you’ll need him to be watched today?”

I gave her our schedule, including the fact that I’d be picking Luke up for lunch, and she asked for any other information she’d need.

I reached into the diaper bag and pulled out Justin’s little ‘Manual of Luke,’ a notebook that had all sorts of important and not-so-important (meaning interesting and adorable, but not necessarily relevant) information about the kid in it. Flipping to the first page, I said, “These are his allergies. His dad has a lot of allergies, too, including Tylenol, so he’s been avoiding giving that to Luke, just in case. The second page is phone numbers. Try my cell first—it’s right here—if you need me, then my office line. Other than that, he’s a pretty standard kid.”

The girl reached out to take him, and I added, “Oh, and make sure that you support his butt when you hold him. He hates being dangled. And he hates water, so make clean-up as quick as possible.”

“Of course, sir,” she said, smiling flirtatiously at me.

I ignored the look and got Luke’s attention. “Hey, little man. I’ll see you for lunch, okay?”

“Bi! Wan Dada, Bi!”

“I know you do, Luke,” I said softly, trying to ignore the woman holding him. “We’ll go see Daddy after I’m done working, okay?”

“Bi, _wan Dada_!”

“So do I, Luke.” I kissed his forehead gently. With far more emotion in my voice than I would like, I added,  “We’ll both have Daddy back soon.”

At this point, the woman must have finally picked up on the fact that I was gay, because she looked a little abashed. Concerned, I asked, “The fact that his father is gay isn’t going to be a problem for you, I hope?”

She looked stricken for a moment. “Oh! Um, no, of… of course not! I was just… surprised.”

I went back to ignoring her, kissed Luke’s forehead again, and said, “See you in a couple hours, Luke.”

“Bye bye, Bi!” he said, waving. I smiled and returned the gesture before heading off to my office.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Luke, Cynthia, and I all had lunch in my office, which was quite the experience. She wanted to meet the kid I’d be taking care of for the foreseeable future, and I didn’t particularly want to take Luke out for lunch, anyway.

“He’s adorable, Boss.”

I groaned. “You’re not gonna leave me to start spawning, are you?”

She snorted into her water bottle. “Hell, no. I can think other people’s kids are cute without wanting to have my own, can’t I?”

“Hmmm, I suppose.” I went back to eating for a while before asking, “Do you think I can do this?”

For a moment, I flinched internally at the fact that I’d just asked for someone’s approval… but then I realized that this was Cynthia, and she would just tell me like it was, not embellishing and not bringing emotions into it.

“What, take care of Justin’s kid while he’s in a coma?” When I nodded, she said simply, “You have to.”

She didn’t have to tell me that her answer was ‘yes.’ She knew better than anyone that I always did the things I had to do.

It was quiet for a moment. Then Luke held up his hippo and said, “Po, Bi!” and smiled at me.

I ruffled his hair, smirking at him and thinking that Cynthia was right—I had to, and I _would_.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Jennifer and Molly were with Justin when Luke and I got to the hospital that night. They had already been there for over an hour, Molly doing homework and Jennifer reading a book, and were just waiting for the doctor to make his evening rounds, planning to leave once they’d been updated.

The doctor was very optimistic, talking about improving vitals and increased brain activity. He was hopeful that Justin would regain consciousness within the week… but all he could give us was _hope_ , no definite answers. Still, I felt my own optimism increasing. Luke babbled constantly to Justin’s unconscious form, and Jennifer and Molly said their goodnights soon after the doctor left the room.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_I was just thinking about the King of Babylon contest. You were right—I was being a shit to you. Two days before, you’d caught me giving your son a kiss. And even though you didn’t make a big deal out of it, I could see how happy you were. I was…_ concerned _that you might read too much into it, think that it meant something it didn’t._

_(Or, rather, that you’d_ know _all the kiss had meant.)_

_Anyway, you won the thousand and the trip to the Bahamas. But the voucher was going to expire before graduation, and you couldn’t take Luke or leave him for a whole week, so you gave the free trip to Mel and Linz, hoping it would help them resolve their post-French-guy-disaster problems._

_And, of course, you volunteered the two of us for Gus-sitting duty._

_It definitely wasn’t easy—far from—but I was surprised at how much…_ fun _it was. Can you believe that? Brian Kinney had_ **fun** _taking care of his kid for almost a full week._

_Of course, I couldn’t have handled the whole week without your help, Sunshine—or Deb and Vic’s, for that matter. So thanks for that._

_And I swear, your penchant for stalking Kinney men must be genetic. If we’re not careful, we’re gonna have another couple of queers on our hands in thirteen years or so._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_So, spring break. Jennifer offered to take you and Molly to Cedar Point for two days, and you didn’t want to go because it would mean leaving Luke. Everyone was trying to talk you into going, but I hadn’t said a word._

_You asked me why I didn’t have an opinion, and I said, “Because you didn’t ask me for one.”_

_God, the blow job you gave me after I said that was fucking brilliant._

_But eventually, you_ did _ask me what I thought. I knew you really wanted to go, especially because it would be a vacation that you didn’t have to pay for. I told you that I didn’t see a problem with you going if you could arrange adequate supervision for Luke while you were gone._

_I think the discussion we had about whether or not I could handle those two days with your son was one of the most serious and yet most enjoyable I’ve ever had. Two nights in a row, we had overnight trial runs, with you there just to be sure I could handle it. You quizzed me on what I knew about your mini-me, and somehow I always passed._

_And you asked me questions about Gus, too. It wasn’t until that day that I knew how much I really knew (and cared) about my own son._

_Thank you, again, Sunshine._

_I’ve never owed one person as much as I owe you._

_(And that scares the shit out of me.)_


	4. Separation Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, note that I posted two chapters today. Make sure you read the one before this first :)
> 
> And secondly, I'm not sure I'm happy with this chapter. For some reason, the Brian in my head wasn't cooperating today. Let me know if you think it's horrible, especially if you have a specific idea of where it can be improved. I always love feedback :D

* * *

 Chapter Three:   **Separation Anxiety**

 

Vic had Tuesday free, so after breakfast at the loft, I took Luke over there for the day.

We had been there less than a minute, Luke just having been placed in the playpen by the window, when Vic turned to me and asked, “How you holding up, kid?”

Something about the sympathetic look on his face, the concerned tone of voice, and the fact that this was _Vic_ , one of the most supportive people I had in my life....

I broke.

Thank fuck it was just us and Luke in the house.

I wasn’t quite sobbing, but the tears were streaming down my face, and Vic had pulled me into him, tucking my head into his shoulder and rubbing my back as I let out all of the frustration, pain, and worry I’d been feeling over the last several days.

When I finally got a hold on myself, I leaned back from Vic, looked down, and rubbed at my face, trying to get rid of the salt water tracks I knew would soon dry on my skin. I sniffed twice and said, still not looking at Vic, “I’ve c-cried three times in the last three days, wh-which is more times than I’d cried b-between the day I met Mikey and last Friday. _That’s_ h-how I’m doing.” God, I _hate_ my voice after I’ve cried. I haven’t had to hear it very often, thank fuck, but it definitely sucks, and not in a positive, life-affirming way.

I felt Vic’s hand on my chin, and I let him force me to look him in the eye. “That’s a _good_ thing, Brian. I know how much you care about your boys—all three of them, if you include Gus. Frankly, I’d be worried if you _hadn’t_ been crying. You’re under a lot of pressure, and you were there when Justin was hurt, and I know that some members of our family think you can’t handle the, admittedly enormous, responsibility that Justin has given to you.”

With a sigh, he clapped his hands onto my shoulders and said emphatically, “But venting your emotions that way is _healthy_. It’s cathartic. It’s _safe_ ,” he added pointedly, obviously referring to my father’s method of releasing his own frustrations.

“And,” he said softly, “you _can_ do this, Brian. Justin _knew_ you could do this. It’s why he left Luke with you. Is it stressful? Hell, yes. Is it more responsibility than you’re used to? Definitely. But it isn’t more than you can handle, especially because you have friends who are here to help you, even if some of them think you shouldn’t have been given the job in the first place.”

My breathing was still hitching a little, the aftermath of my crying, but I managed to nod, even if I couldn’t trust my voice just yet. To give myself something to do while I pulled myself together, I picked Luke up out of the playpen again and held him to my chest.

Vic smiled at us. “Having him with you is as much of a help as it is a responsibility, though, isn’t it?”

“What d’you mean?” I asked, though I figured I knew where he was going with that.

“You have a distraction and a piece of Justin, and having Luke with you means you know that he’s happy and healthy, even if Justin can’t be either of those things right now.”

Damn Vic for always being so fucking perceptive.

But I couldn’t deny that all he’d said had made me feel a hell of a lot better about the current situation.

Bless Vic for always being so fucking perceptive.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

As soon as I started the car, I could feel something... _strange_. For some reason, I _really_ didn’t want to drive away, but that was ridiculous, so I put the Jeep in drive and headed off to work, trying my best the whole way there to ignore the unsettled feeling in my stomach.

When I passed Cynthia’s desk and headed to my office, she followed, closing my door behind her. “Boss? What happened?”

“I...” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I feel... jumpy. Anxious.”

With a thoughtful look on her face, Cyn asked, “When did it start?”

“When I was about to leave Deb’s this morning.”

“And what happened at Deb’s?”

I shot her a warning look, but she ignored it, adding, “If you want my help figuring out what’s got you feeling like this, you’ll have to tell me.”

Shrugging, I said, “When I dropped Luke off with Vic, he asked me how I’ve been doing, and I....”

I couldn’t finish, but she interrupted anyway. “Separation anxiety.”

“.... What?”

“Separation anxiety. This is the first time since Luke was put in your care that you aren’t at least in the same building as him, and it has you anxious.” She smiled softly. “It’s totally normal, Boss. Just call Vic every once in a while to check in, and try to focus on your work. A couple of days of this, and then it’ll get better.”

What Cynthia had suggested made sense, so I asked her to bring me my messages, and I picked up the phone to call Vic.

He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Vic.”

“Brian! What’s up?”

I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “Well... Cynthia says I have separation anxiety, so I thought I’d give you a heads-up that I’ll probably be calling you several times today to check in on Luke.”

Vic laughed a little. “And would you like to check in on him right now?” I sighed, and Vic must have taken that as a ‘yes.’ He assured me, “He’s just fine, Brian. He’s playing with that little piano Deb and I got him for his birthday.”

I smiled. Luke loved that thing. With another sigh, I said, “Thanks, Vic. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure thing, Brian.”

When we’d hung up and Cynthia had given me my messages, I took a moment to be grateful that Vic hadn’t tried to tell me not to worry, or that I didn’t need to call and check on Luke. He’d just accepted that I needed to and left it at that.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

I managed to get through my day only calling the Novotny/Grassi residence twice more—once while I had lunch, during which call I talked with Luke for as long as the phone could keep his attention, and once in the mid-afternoon when I had a short break in between meetings that wasn’t enough time to do any other work but was too much time not to be thinking about Justin and his son.

Debbie and Vic were both home when I popped in to pick up Luke, so I offered to drive Deb to the hospital with us if she’d planned on visiting that night. She happily accepted, and soon we were on our way.

Not two minutes into the drive, I regretted ever having offered.

“Vic told me you’ve been having a rough time of things.”

Damn Vic. Even if he never mentioned my breakdown, there was no way Deb hadn’t figured it out. _Shit_.

My voice was carefully nonchalant as I replied, “Well, a kid is a lot of responsibility, especially at Luke’s age. Anybody would be ‘having a rough time.’”

Deb smiled at me. “Yes, that’s true. But it’s _also_ true that Luke isn’t your only worry right now.”

My mind was flooded with a picture of Justin, broken and bleeding and looking so small in that ER hospital bed. “Yeah,” I managed to respond.

“You know,” she said lightly— _too_ lightly—“Emmett told me what happened at the diner on Sunday morning.”

“You gonna accuse me of being an unfit guardian, too?” I asked bitterly.

“Fuck, no!” I shot her a shocked look, amazed to see that she was angry, not _at_ me, but _for_ me. “Melanie was fucking out of line, saying that Justin isn’t looking out for his kid properly by trusting you with him! And Lindsey! I can’t believe that she could hold so tightly to the fucking country club values that her parents taught her. You would think, with how much she’s been hurt by them over her sexuality and her relationship with Melanie, that her parents’ ideas about what makes a ‘proper’ family wouldn’t matter to her anymore, but obviously they still do. It may not be the easiest thing to do, or the smartest, becoming a parent as a teenager, but that doesn’t make it _wrong_. It just _is_. It happens, and you deal with it.”

At that moment, I realized that Lindsey’s attitude over Justin’s age was really hurting Deb. She’d been only eighteen when she had Mikey, barely out of high school and single. And although she was only a diner waitress, she was _happy_ with her life. And Lindsey’s sub-textual suggestion that raising Luke would ruin Justin’s life was hurting Debbie as much as it hurt Sunshine.

“She’s fucking _wrong_ , Debbie,” I assured her. “Lindsey... has a lot of issues that she needs to work out. She’s _wrong_.”

Luckily, we’d just made it to the hospital, so the conversation was dropped before Deb asked me exactly what issues Lindsey had.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Justin hadn’t really shown any progress over how he’d been the previous day, but there hadn’t been any setbacks, which we took as good news. Jennifer had been there again when Deb, Luke, and I had gotten to Justin’s room. Debbie asked Jen for a ride home when she left. I was pretty sure Deb had done that so that Luke and I could have some time alone with Sunshine, but at least she didn’t say anything about it to Jennifer.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_I haven’t told anyone this yet._

_I’ve been afraid to._

_...The day before my birthday—which would be... last Tuesday, so a week ago, now—Mikey came to the loft._

_It'd been almost two months since the last time I’d even seen him, let alone talked to him. And I’d missed my (former) best friend really badly—which_ you _know, of course, because you fucking know everything, don’t you, twat? I missed always having someone I could talk to that knew all the shit in my past, that didn’t have to have any back story explained to them. I was relieved to see him... but at the same time, I was sure I wasn’t going to like what he had to say._

_And I was right._

_He told me that David had asked him to move to Portland with him, which I already knew through the family grape vine. But then...._

_The fucker looked at me and said, ‘Ask me not to go, Brian. Ask me to stay with you. Give me a reason not to go.’_

_When I asked him why he wanted me to ask him to give up his chance at getting out of Pittsburgh and enjoying his life, he blushed, took a deep breath, and said, ‘I want you to want to be with me, Brian. I’ve been in love with you since we were fourteen. I know you love me. So please, Brian, ask me to stay.’_

_I told him that his being in love with me was exactly why I'd pushed him away. I told him that I_ do _love him, but as a friend, as a_ brother _, and that I just can’t be with him that way._

_Then he said, angry and accusing, ‘So you’ve just been stringing me along all of these years.’_

_I asked him why he thought, after all of this time when nothing had happened between us, that it still would. I asked how he could imagine, if I hadn’t already fallen in love with him after sixteen years, that I still could._

_Then he asked me why I never just came out and said that I didn’t want him that way, if it was so obvious to me that that's what_ he _wanted. My answer was, ‘Because I didn’t want to lose you as a friend.’_

_Tears started running down his face, and he asked, ‘And then, at my birthday, you didn’t care anymore whether or not we were friends?’_

_‘No, Michael,’ I said, really angry then. ‘I realized that the both of us growing up and actually_ living _our lives was more important, was_ better _than letting both of us stay stuck in high school for the rest of our lives! You needed to know that nothing is ever going to happen between us, and I needed to be honest with you.’_

_Without saying anything, he headed toward the door of the loft, but before he left, I gave him part of what he wanted._

_‘You asked me to give you a reason not to go,’ I said. ‘Maybe the fact that you’re looking so hard for an excuse to stay is a reason.’_

_He left, and I haven’t talked to him since. He and David flew to Portland on Friday. I haven’t asked Debbie about him, and frankly, I don’t want to know. I know that he and the doc aren’t going to last, but it’s Mikey’s life, and he has to make his own decisions and deal with his own mistakes._

_I should have let him do that years ago._

_Fuck, are you sure you want me spending so much time around your kid? I obviously did a horrible job of raising Michael. I don’t want to fuck up Luke’s life, too._

_Or yours, for that matter._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

I had just finished telling Justin that story when a nurse said, “It wasn’t your job to raise your friend.”

Embarrassingly, I jumped in my seat at the sound of her voice. When I’d regained my calm, I asked, “Eavesdropping?”

She shrugged unapologetically, which I could appreciate. “You tell him stories, or memories, or whatever a lot. Pretty much all the nurses have heard something. But I’m totally serious.” She started checking machines and Justin’s bandage, noting things on his chart while still talking to me.

“You were a kid, too. It wasn’t up to you to teach your friend how to live his life, how to be a good person. Yeah, you’d have some influence, but if he looked to you to solve all of his problems, that was _his_ decision. And I know what I’m talking about, because I did the same thing.

“Granted, it was my mother who I always went to when something went wrong, asking her to fix it. And my father was the one planning out my life for me. But the point is, it was _my_ life, and I let them decide how I was going to live it. When I was twenty-three, I realized that I hated law school. So I finally stood up to my parents, told them I wasn’t going to become a lawyer, that I wasn’t going to marry the man my mother had set me up with two years before, and then I told them I was going back to undergrad to become a nurse.”

She sighed, pulled her clipboard to her chest, and crossed her arms over it. “My parents may have been enablers, but _I_ am the one who refused to live my own life. But I learned, and your friend will, too.”

Just when she reached the door to leave, she turned and smiled at me. “And I told my parents for three years that they’d been dictating my life before they finally believed me. Even now, they still try to do it at times. The fact that you figured this out on your own? That means you recognize the mistake and won’t be making it again.” She looked at Luke and smiled again. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

Then she left, and I tried hard to believe her.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

I had another nightmare that night, but I couldn’t really remember it in detail. Like before, all I really knew was that it had something to do with Justin, and I woke up with tears on my face, sweat drying on my skin, and Luke’s whimpers in my ears.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” I whispered as I held him to me, moving to get the phone. “We’ll call the nurse at the hospital and check on Daddy, and then we can go back to sleep. Sound good?”

A few seconds later, I heard Alexis greet me. “Hi, it’s Brian Kinney.”

“Oh, hey, Brian!” There was a smile in her voice. “I just checked on Justin about fifteen minutes ago, but I can look in on him again if you’d like.”

I really, _really_ wanted to tell her that wasn’t necessary, but every part of me screamed to know how he was at that _exact_ moment. “Um... yeah, that’d be great.”

“Sure thing. Hang on just a moment.... Still looking good, Brian. When his bandage was changed this morning, the nurse noted that the wound was healing nicely, and his vitals and brain activity all look really good.”

“Good,” I sighed. “Thank you, Alexis.”

“No problem. You get some rest, and take good care of that little boy.”

I managed to smile a little. “I’ll do that. Later.”

“Have a good night, Brian.”

When I’d hung up, I went back to my bed.

Luke slept with me.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

Having Luke at the office with me the next day meant I was less antsy and more focused. I managed to get a shit-ton of work done, and lunch with Luke and Cynthia was... well, for lack of a better adjective, _nice_.

Of course, Luke had decided to get into the older children’s art supplies toward the end of the day, and he was a royal mess of finger paints when I went to pick him up. The ladies in the day care apologized profusely, assuring me that the paints were washable and would come out of his clothes and would not stain his skin. They helped me get him out of the dirty shirt (the pants were relatively unscathed) and gave me a wash cloth, directing me to the sink so that I could clean him up.

Apparently, they’d quickly come to realize that water and Luke didn’t mix well.

After two minutes of ridiculous, drama-queen screams over a damp rag, I finally had Luke clean and dry enough to load him in the car, and by the time we got back to the loft, he was happy and smiling again.

Fuck, that _smile_.... Absolutely _no_ question where that came from.

Luke was in his playpen with an assortment of toys as I attempted to get changed as quickly as I could. I wanted to get the kid his dinner before he started screaming. We'd only been home a few minutes, though, when the buzzer went off.

“Yeah?”

“Brian?”

_Oh, God, it’s Lindsey._ I hit the button to let her in and opened the door. While I waited for the elevator to get up to my floor, I picked up Luke and got him settled in his high chair.

“Brian, why didn’t your door code work?”

I looked up from Luke to see that Lindsey had brought Gus along with her. I gave my son a hello kiss before answering and getting Luke’s dinner together at the same time. “When I found out Luke was going to be staying with me, I changed the code. I didn’t want any previous tricks that had seen me punch in the number to be able to get into the building while Luke is living here.”

Lindsey looked shocked, and I assumed it was because she wouldn’t expect me to think to do something like that. _Fuck her. If she doesn’t realize how much I lo... how much I care about Justin’s son, it’s_ her _problem, not mine._

I sat down and started feeding Luke—some turkey thing and mashed potatoes, both from jars, and a handful of original Goldfish crackers, with a sippy cup (I really hate that term) of apple juice. Linz seemed to take that as a cue to feed Gus.

Without covering herself first.

“God, Linz, could you... _not_ do that in front of me?”

Looking offended, she asked, “What, feed your son? What’s wrong with you, Brian?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s just... I’m grateful that you’re breastfeeding, because I know how beneficial that is for a kid, but that doesn’t mean I want to see it.”

She huffed, but she got Gus’s blanket from the car seat and covered her upper body with it. That made me feel a little better, but the fact that she wouldn’t think to do that in front of me in the first place... it worried me, especially with what Emmett had been telling me about Lindsey’s feelings and desires.

Of course, I had gotten it fourth-hand, so there was hope that something was miscommunicated somewhere along the line.

But that hope was minimal.

Luke babbled at me to get my attention, demanding another bite, his word for which sounded the same as my name, also—you’d think it would be confusing, but somehow I always managed to know what the kid was trying to tell me.

Before he swallowed the next bite I gave him, though, Luke tried to stick a cracker in his mouth. “No, Luke. You need to swallow first. That’s too much.”

“Moh!” he tried to complain, telling me he wanted more, but as he still had mashed potato in his mouth, some of it dribbled out onto his chin.

I scooped it up with the spoon like Justin usually did and said, “See? You’re not ready for another bite. You have to eat this one first. Then you can have more.”

He started to throw a temper tantrum, so I moved his food away.

Then he _really_ wailed.

I put my hand on his head and said softly, “Luke, what’s wrong?”

“Wan _moh_ , Bi!” he demanded, crying now and red in the face.

“I’ll give you more, but just one bite at a time, okay?”

When I reached for the spoon, he calmed down, and I finished giving him his dinner one bite at a time, not letting his little hands reach the food on his own.

Linz was looking at me speculatively, but I ignored her until I had Luke cleaned up—which made the second time that day, and it was just as _lovely_ an experience as the first—and put him down in the living room, inviting Linz to sit there with me.

She sat on the couch and set Gus on the floor. He was sitting up on his own now, and he could stand if you put him on his feet and gave him something to hold on to, but he wasn’t quite getting to his feet on his own yet. Luke stood and looked at Gus for a moment before going to a box of toys and bringing back a stuffed panda bear and his hippo. The little blonde plopped down in front of Gus, looked at the nine-month-old for a moment, and then held out the bear. Gus smiled, took the bear, and lightly hit Luke in the knees with it.

Luke laughed happily. I was still smiling at them when Lindsey finally spoke up.

“I don’t think Mel and I are going to be able to work things out.”

Internally, I flinched, but I didn’t let her see that. “Is it the cheating?” I looked up at Lindsey, and she shook her head.

“That’s a part of it, but really, it’s a lot of things.” She sighed, looked at Gus for a moment, and then said, “She doesn’t trust me, and I’m having trouble trusting her again.”

I looked at her pointedly. “So, it _is_ the cheating.”

Lindsey shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose so. But it’s other things, too. The way she’s been talking to me lately... the things she’s accused me of.... I just don’t think she knows me at all anymore, or that she doesn’t want to. How can I trust someone who doesn’t trust me?”

“What has she accused you of? She think you’re cheating on her?”

“Oh, no, of course not. She knows I’d never do that.” She sighed again. “She thinks... that I’m settling for her, that she’s not actually the one that I want.” I heard her laugh, but it was a nervous sound. “Mel said that I obviously want to be with _you_ , that that’s why I wouldn’t use another donor in order to have Gus. But that’s crazy! I mean, just because that _one_ time in college, we—”

I looked at her, my temper rising now. “You _told_ her about that?”

She gave me an impatient look. “Well, of _course_ , Brian! She’s my partner, I tell her everything.”

“That wasn’t just your secret to tell, Lindsey!” I stood up, trying to walk off the excess energy so that I didn’t start yelling and upset the boys. “And now that’s causing problems between the two of you, and _I_ am getting dragged into it because _you told her without my permission_!”

We were both quiet for a while, and then I looked at the clock. It was almost seven, and visiting hours ended at eight, so I needed to get Luke over to the hospital. In a much more controlled voice, I said, “You and Gus need to go.”

“ _What_?! You’re kicking us out?”

“God, Lindsey, don’t be so dramatic! I need to get Luke over to the hospital to be with Justin, so you guys need to go.”

A confused look crossed Lindsey’s face then, but she nodded and rounded Gus up, leaving a few minutes ahead of me and Luke.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

_I need you to wake up, Sunshine. Everyone is going fucking nuts, and I don’t know how much longer I can deal with it. I haven’t had sex with anything but my right hand in more than five days, Lindsey is apparently under the delusion that she and I are meant to get married, Michael is suffering from the same delusion, Emmett is being smart and serious, and your mother and I are talking regularly and not fighting. The world is going to shit, and I think you waking up is the only thing that can fix it._

_Please,_ please _wake up, Sunshine._

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

On Thursday, the separation anxiety returned with a vengeance. I called Debbie, who was babysitting that day, at least half a dozen times, and Luke didn’t leave my arms the rest of the night except to ride in the Jeep. I even had him sit on my lap to eat his dinner because I couldn’t bear to put him down.

Luckily, that was at the loft, and there were no surprise visitors that night, so no one saw me being ridiculously lesbianic.

 

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

 

We went to the hospital after dinner, but for once I sat silently, just looking at Justin and Luke and thinking. Sunshine had once told me, jokingly, that he was the most mature person that I know. But I was starting to think that, in some ways, it was true.

When Sarah had died and Luke’s grandfather abandoned the kid, Justin had changed around his life for that little boy. He’d done whatever he could to make sure that Luke would be safe and happy and healthy. He’d gotten Luke out of the Taylor house, where he would have been at least emotionally abused, if not physically. Justin had given up his pride to accept Debbie and Vic’s help. He’d been willing to give up our... well, it was a _kind_ of relationship, even if not a romantic one, but he’d been willing to give up what we had, even give up ever seeing me again, in order to make sure his kid had a place to live.

He’d been about to give up on his dreams, too. Daphne and I had managed to get him accepted to Carnegie Mellon and PIFA, even though he’d insisted that he could go to a less expensive school, and that art school was totally out. I’d suggested to him that he get a degree at Carnegie, which was very prestigious, in a field that interested him—he’d chosen a double major in graphic design and business administration with an emphasis on graphic media management. And then we’d talked about PIFA.

He was adamant that being an artist wasn’t a stable enough career for a single father, and I accepted his point. But I also reminded him that a degree was by no means a requirement to be an artist. So I suggested that he graduate from Carnegie Mellon, get a good-paying job, and take one course at a time from PIFA just for his own benefit, without the goal of a degree. That way, he’d be able to pay as he went, and could learn from the prestigious teachers at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts, possibly opening up opportunities for his art as a career in the future, and still have a stable, steady income to support his kid.

He took a few days to think it over and eventually admitted to me that he could see the value in what I’d suggested. I could tell he really wanted this, and the fact that _I_ had made it possible for him....

(It was a feeling I didn’t want to name, but I was sure I couldn’t hold out much longer.)

Sitting in that hospital room, thinking about Justin’s maturity level as compared to the rest of our family, I discovered something I had never really noticed before.

My ‘family’ members loved each other, and they loved me. But some of them loved unconditionally, and some loved selfishly. Some of them saw me for who I was, and some saw a person who didn’t exist outside of their own heads.

Debbie could get angry at me, and she was never afraid to call me on my shit, but she’s always been there to help, even if she was upset with me. Her love was unconditional, even when she was disappointed in me. And she saw when I did things right as well as when I fucked up.

Vic corrected and scolded me often, but he very rarely _judged_ me. It was about what I did, not who I was. He’d given me more good advice than anyone else in my life. He saw me for who I was.

Michael saw me as his super hero, an untouchable god of a man who doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone else had to say about him, who lives his life with no regrets and does whatever the fuck he wants. Despite the fact that we’d ‘grown up’ together, he never recognized when the things I was saying were a load of shit. Somehow, he didn’t know me well enough to know that I lie often with what I say. (But I don’t lie with what I _do_ , and _that’s_ the important thing.)

Ted... sometimes he saw me, and sometimes he didn’t. He could banter back and forth with me, give as good as he took. But he was wrong, when he told me that I could be trusted not to feel conflicted over pulling the plug on him. I... could never choose to do that. I don’t think I could survive taking someone off of life support and never knowing whether they would have woken up or gotten better if I hadn’t done it.

(That was one of the reasons that Justin _had_ to wake up. One of the less important ones, sure, but a reason.)

Emmett was a special case. He didn’t have an opinion on my frequent tricking like the rest of the family, because he was nearly as much of a slut as me (and because, unlike Mikey, he knew that a rep as a man-whore wasn’t such a difficult thing to achieve). The difference between me and Emmett was that he was looking for ‘the one’ and I wasn’t. Emmett didn’t have a problem with my many, _many_ sexual partners, but he disagreed with my opinion on romantic love. Still, regardless of the fact that he disagreed with me, he respected our differences. And the few times that I really did something to piss Emmett off, he got serious and scolded, but like Vic, he never objected to my character, just my actions.

Lindsey... well, she obviously needed to let go of the idea of ever pleasing her parents. They weren’t worth the effort, and she should live her life as she wants to live it, regardless. Whether she was _actually_ in love with me, or just wanted the parental acceptance she would get if we were involved, I wasn’t sure, but there were issues that she desperately needed to resolve before they ruined everything for her.

And Melanie. She was the one who started it, and that’s not me being childish. Lindsey had told Melanie a lot about me before Mel and I ever met. I can imagine that Linz probably talked about me so much, and with such admiration, that Mel was already jealous before she’d ever even seen me. A week after we met, she’d already started to refer to me as ‘the asshole.’ I honestly think we could have gotten along if it weren’t for the way we met. She’s sarcastic and tough, and I’d probably enjoy verbally sparring with her if we didn’t actually mean for our words to hurt.

But Justin...

Justin saw me from the very beginning. I never would have admitted it at the time, but there was something different about him, even that first night. For some reason, even though he was a blond, and a twink—both of which were totally opposite of my usual type—I was completely drawn to him.

Fuck, I actually _talked_ to him. All of his ridiculous babble was... _appealing_ , for some unknown reason, and even though I’d ended the night higher than a kite, the next morning, I remembered most of what we’d talked about.

(Including his name. I’d totally lied about forgetting that. It scared me that I couldn’t _not_ remember it, so I pretended ignorance.)

And I told him the story of my first time. Or, at least, I told him part of the story. Even Mikey didn’t know the whole thing.

And then I took him with me to the hospital to meet my fucking son.

And then I let him stay the night. And the next morning, he was still fucking irresistible.

My point being, there was something there, even the first night we knew each other, and Justin had figured me out enough to know I’d felt it, too, because he hadn’t given up on me. Even when he became a single teenage father, he still wouldn’t let me go (that moment of insanity the night he told me about Luke aside). And even though I knew he’d love nothing more than to be in a relationship with me, he never pushed me again after the first time I told him how I operate. He didn’t object to my tricking, he didn’t abandon me when I got into that trouble with the sexual harassment suit, he understood exactly what I’d done when I outted Michael at his birthday party.... Somehow, that kid knew, right from the beginning, exactly who I was.

And he loved me anyway.

_God, Sunshine, please wake up._

_I... could really use my best friend right now._


	5. Addictive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. Real Life just piled one thing after another on me, including a new job, summer classes, and transferring my files to a new computer (which still isn't finished, but I needed a break :)
> 
> Also, **warning for explicit Brian/other** in this chapter. (I know, it sucks, in both good and bad ways. Just hang in there.)

* * *

Chapter Four: **Addictive** **  
**

On Friday, my issues with leaving Luke at Deb's were much less debilitating. I called the house three times—mid-morning, at lunchtime, and about an hour before I left at the end of the day. Luke was doing just fine, though he was apparently asking for Justin nonstop.

I knew just how he felt.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

As soon as I got to Deb's that night, I went up to Vic and asked, "Can I bring Luke back here after visiting the hospital? Just for a few hours."

The look Vic gave me was something like resignation, but, frankly, getting my motives dissected was the last thing I needed just then. He must have been able to tell from the look in my eyes that I wasn't going to talk, because he just nodded. "Can you pick him back up by midnight?"

That would give me about two hours. "Perfect. Thank you, Vic."

"You deserve a couple hours off, kiddo."

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

When Luke and I got to Justin's room, Jennifer was speaking to the doctor, Molly listening intently from a chair next to Sunshine's bed. I felt my heart stop for a moment. "What happened?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice from sounding as terrified as I felt.

"Oh, Brian!" Jennifer said, looking pleased. That calmed me somewhat. "Dr. Schroeder was just telling me that he expects Justin to wake up any day, now."

My shoulders sagged a little in relief, but I forced myself to ask, "Why wasn't I called, then? I have Justin's POA. There's a note in his file to inform me whenever his condition changes."

The doctor hurried to reassure me, "There hasn't been a change, _per se_ , just continued improvement of brain activity, just as we've been seeing for the most part since last weekend. And it certainly isn't definite that he'll wake soon. Simply my best conjecture."

I hugged Luke to my chest, breathing in the scent of his hair. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I couldn't help the optimism I felt fill me at the thought that Justin would be waking up soon. The longer he was out, the more bizarre my world seemed to become, and I couldn't help the irrational feeling that everything would go back to normal once Sunshine was awake again.

Then Molly brought me crashing back down to Earth. "Is he gonna be okay when he wakes up?"

_Oh, god. How could I have forgotten about the damage, even for a moment....?_

Dr. Schroeder put on a contemplative look. "I assume you've been told by now how unpredictable brain injuries can be. His rate of improvement since slipping into the coma has been very promising, but I won't be able to give you any sort of diagnosis as to the effects of the injury until Justin wakes and we can evaluate his memory, speech, cognitive, and motor function. The damage was done to a fairly small surface area, though, so I'm optimistic."

A few moments later, the doctor had left, and Jennifer reached to take Luke from me. I handed him over a little reluctantly and then sat in my usual chair next to Justin's bed.

Jennifer sat on the end of the bed, and Molly kept her seat opposite me. The strawberry-blonde sighed and said, "I miss Justin. He never talks to me anymore."

I politely refrained from mentioning that Justin found his sister particularly annoying at this age.

"You can call him whenever you want, Molly," Jen reminded her. "I gave you Mrs. Novotny's phone number."

"But why can't he call  _me_?"

"Because he's a teenage boy, Mollusk," I said quietly, deliberately using the nickname I knew only Justin used with her. "They forget to do important stuff like that all the time."

That seemed to make her feel better. Jen caught my eye and nodded once, slowly, in approval, or maybe gratitude. It was a really surreal moment, but I was glad that I'd finally done something to make Sunshine's mom see me as more than the predator that took away her baby's (gay) virginity.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

By eight thirty, I was parking the Jeep outside one of Liberty Ave's most popular bath houses.

It felt like it had been months, rather than days, since I'd gotten laid. Frankly, if I hadn't been so on edge emotionally, I'm not sure I would have been able to last this long, even with having Luke in my care. But I had the time, now, to get myself taken care of, even if it would be brief, and I was going to take advantage of it.

I immediately bypassed the rooms—they'd never really been my thing, and I needed more than that tonight. Once I made it into the orgy room, I pulled off my towel and scanned the room.

Near the back left-hand corner was a group of five guys, all of whom looked promising. Two of them were standing, getting their cocks serviced, one with a single man on his knees, the other being passed between the last two hotties. When I reached them, I pulled a young, lean brunet away to pay my own cock the attention that it desperately needed.

The kid moaned when my fingers clenched in his hair and pulled his mouth to my cock. With a whisper that could have been, "Oh, _god_ , yeah," he went to work on me, fisting the lower half of my dick while mouthing and tonguing at the head.

It certainly wasn't the greatest blowjob I'd ever had—

(Nowhere near as good as Sunshine's)

—but it would do. A few minutes in, the brunet took my dick a little further into his mouth and started to roll my balls in his free hand. I looked up from my own activities to watch the others around me.

The man that my trick had been sucking before now had his remaining twink on all fours, his fingers pumping in and out of the kid's ass. They must have already been at that for a while, because it only took a few seconds before the guy behind was rolling on a condom and pushing inside. He set a fast, slightly-rough rhythm, and his aim must have been fucking incredible because the twink cried out in pleasure on nearly every thrust. The sight of them combined with the mouth on my dick was enough to tip me over the edge.

But the release itself wasn't enough. I love getting sucked off, but even when the guy is talented at it (debatable with this trick) it's only ever enough to tide me over until 'the main event,' whatever that happens to be. My world had been out of control for a week now—

(Possibly for years. As long as I'd been alive, maybe)

—and I wanted, _needed_ , to do something to change that. I had to be the one in control. I had to be the one planning, directing, executing.

When my cock was starting to feel oversensitive, I pulled the guy off my dick and told him to prepare the guy doing the fucking on the floor in front of us. I watched as he did what I'd demanded, slowly stroking myself to bring my dick back to full arousal and verbally directing the group. Eventually, we were all ready. I pushed Trick Number One (the guy who'd sucked me off) against the nearest wall, directed Trick Number Two (the bottom boy) to press chest to chest against One, and had Trick Number Three sink back into Two's ass. My condom-sheathed dick was soon inside Three, and I started the rhythm back up. One and Two rutted together, Two still moaning like crazy. Every once in a while, when I'd hit just right, Three would gasp and loll his head back onto my shoulder. I couldn't keep track of the time, but I knew this wasn't going to last long, even though I'd come only a short time before. After all, it had been more than a week since I'd gotten off with another guy.

Two was the first to go off, moaning theatrically (too theatrically, in my opinion; the moaning was obviously faked), and One followed a few moments behind. It took Three a couple more minutes, and the clenching of his ass around my dick when he came finally pulled me over the edge, too.

While the others were still recovering, I withdrew, disposed of my condom, grabbed my towel again, and headed out.

It had been the distraction that I'd needed, but the post-orgasm effect hadn't been nearly as strong as I was hoping. I'd barely come before I was thinking about getting back to Deb's house on time to pick up Luke, the freshly fucked feeling nearly completely gone in only minutes.

_Fuck, what's wrong with me?_

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

Back at Deb's house, Vic was sitting up in the kitchen, reading a magazine. When I walked in, he pointed to the play pen by the window, where a little blond was sleeping peacefully. I nodded in recognition and then joined Vic at the table.

He looked at me strangely for a few moments before asking, "Feeling better?"

I shrugged, not saying anything.

"Hmmm."

I sighed. " _What_ , Vic?"

Shaking his head slightly, he said, "I just worry about you, Brian."

"And what, in particular, worries you?"

"That you treat sex the way you do."

Those words threw me completely. "O-kay," I drawled sarcastically, drawing the word out into two syllables. "And how do I treat sex?"

"Like an adrenaline junkie treats a roller coaster," Vic said seriously. "Instead of looking at it like something fun that you can share with someone, it's been reduced to a way to feel normal. But like with any addiction, soon it won't be enough anymore, anyway. And it scares me, kid. I don't want to see that happen to you." He sighed and stood. "You need to get yourself and Luke home. It's getting late, and you'll probably want to be at the hospital tomorrow morning. Goodnight, kid."

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

I couldn't sleep. I'd been lying in bed for nearly three hours at that point, and my brain just wouldn't shut off.

Was that really what was happening to me? Had sex become something I _needed_ , something I had no control over, rather than something I actually enjoyed? The words I'd said to the guys right before I first met Justin came to mind. " _I got bored._ " How does someone get fucking _bored_ getting a blowjob? Okay, so if it was bad, I could see that happening. But apparently, even before Justin started giving me regular head and spoiled me for everyone else, I was starting to feel like something was lacking in that department. And the number of tricks I had each month had been steadily increasing over the years.

The more I thought about it, the more it resembled my drinking and drugging habits, too. Slowly becoming desensitized, then increasing the amount consumed in order to feel the same effects, the cycle continuing. That was the definition of 'addiction,' wasn't it?

Fuck. Vic was right.

I was addicted to sex.

I finally fell asleep around five in the morning.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

The next morning, Luke was a terror. As I got him ready to head out, he fought me every step of the way: pushing away his food, crying almost constantly, doing his best to keep me from dressing him. I knew it was because he missed Justin, and I hated that there was nothing I could do to make the kid feel better.

"Shh, Luke. It's going to be okay, little man."

Eventually, I managed to get us both ready, and then I wrangled Luke into the car seat in the Jeep. He cried himself out by the time we got to the hospital, which meant I could carry a sleeping baby instead of a crying one.

In Sunshine's room, I nestled Luke down next to his dad and pulled my chair as close to the bed as possible. I could feel the exhaustion from the night before settling in, so I propped my head on my hand, stared at the two sleeping blonds, and let my mind wander.

My conclusions from early that morning returned. All hope that the idea that I was addicted to sex would seem ridiculous in the light of day vanished. Vic was right: I hadn't gone out last night to have fun, to unwind. I'd gone to the baths because it felt necessary. It wasn't about having fun or relaxing; it was about getting a fix, resetting to put off the compulsive need for a little while.

How had I let that happen to me? When had sex stopped being something I did because I wanted to do it?

And most importantly, how did I get rid of the addiction so that I could enjoy sex again?

There was no fucking way I was going into a program, that was for damn sure. If I tried something like that, my personal business would end up all over Liberty Avenue before I could blink.

I could do some research of my own and try to get rid of the addiction myself, but knowing my parents' struggles with alcoholism, I doubted that I'd manage to do it alone.

And Justin wasn't available.

That really only left one option.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

"Um... did I hear you right, Boss?"

I sighed into the phone. "Yeah, Cynthia, you did. But... _discreetly_ , okay?"

There was a short pause. "Sure thing, Brian. Is there... anything else I can do to help?"

"No, thanks, Cyn. Just see if you can get something for Monday, alright? I don't have any meetings in the morning, so it won't be a problem to come in late."

"Alright, I'm on it. I'll message you the details once I've got them."

"Great. Thanks, Cynthia. I'll see you on Monday afternoon, then."

"Bye, Boss."

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

Someone shook my shoulder a while later, pulling me from my sleep. I blinked blurrily, Daphne's face coming into focus. "What time is it?"

"A few minutes after one," she said softly, smiling. "I got here over an hour ago. I've been playing with Luke."

Startled, I looked around, finding the little boy on a blanket on the floor near the window, playing with his hippo. "Wow, I can't believe I didn't wake up when you got him down."

Daphne smirked. "You were out like a light. I figured you could use all the sleep you could get. But it's lunch time, and you're skinny enough, so—"

"Hmmm, yeah, food is probably a good idea."

"I'll go down to the cafeteria. What do you want me to get you?"

I gave her a menu for me and Luke, handed her some cash, and pulled the kid back up to the bed. Once I was sure that Daphne was gone, I confessed to Luke and Justin.

"So Vic talked to me last night. Have you noticed that he's always infuriatingly right? Well, at the time, I didn't think so, but the more I thought about it... it makes complete sense.

"I'm... pretty sure I'm addicted to sex. And that's a big problem, because it means I'm not having enough fun at it anymore. So I'm... um, I'm going to see... a shrink.

"I know what you're thinking: Brian Kinney doesn't even _believe_ in all that psychology bullshit. But it's really my only option right now. And I wish... I don't want to do this myself, but I don't have Mikey, and I can't talk about this with Linz, not right now. And fuck if I'm gonna tell Emmy Lou or Theodore. So I guess I have to stick it out... at least until you wake up. So you'd better wake up soon, dammit Justin. Fucking...." I tamped down a sob, took a deep breath through my nose, and whispered, "Fucking wake _up_ , Sunshine... please."

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

"School sucks even worse than usual now," Daphne said while we ate in Justin's hospital room. "All the homophobic jocks are laughing about what Hobbs did to Justin. Every _fucking_ time they see me, they start cracking up, and the teachers won't do a damn thing."

I tossed down my sandwich. "Fucking assholes."

Daph nodded. "I told them off once and got in trouble for swearing."

Sighing and dropping my head to my hands, I just took a few minutes to breathe deeply. The injustice of everything Sunshine had been forced to face at school.... Those assholes were lucky that I had to take care of Luke, or I might just go down to that school and do something that would get me in serious trouble. "God, hasn't he been through enough already?"

There was a sniffling sound, and I looked up to see Daphne wiping tears out of her eyes. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, letting her put her face in the crook of my neck and get the emotion all out.

It was a few minutes later that she pulled back, rubbing gently at the shoulder of my shirt. "Sorry, Brian."

"Don't worry about it," I assured her quietly. "It's not dry-clean only, a little salt water won't hurt."

She smiled slightly for a moment before her face fell again. "I hope he wakes up soon. I hope he's okay when he wakes up."

"Yeah," I agreed, flinching. "Me, too."

She laid her head back on my shoulder, the both of us quietly watching Luke playing with some puzzle toy on the bed at Justin's feet. After a while, she said, "Justin really loves you, you know."

"I know."

"Eighty percent of the time he's talking, it's about you or Luke."

I huffed a laugh. "And he talks a lot in general."

Daphne giggled at that. "Yep, he definitely does."

Laughing with Daphne was surprisingly easy, the way it used to be with Lindsey and Michael. And when I had thought that, I realized that I wasn't really alone at all—yeah, Daphne was young, but she was the same age as the blond I'd been dying to talk to for the last week. Eventually, I managed to say to her, "I'm going to see a therapist."

She was obviously startled, but she reined it in. With a curious voice, she asked, "What made you decide to do that?"

"Something that Vic said last night."

"Justin says that Vic always seems to know things that everyone else doesn't." She was smiling again.

I nodded. "He sees a lot more than most people do. And he's not afraid to tell you exactly what he's thinking."

"So what'd he say to you?"

With a sigh, looking down at my hands, I answered, "That he thinks I'm addicted to sex, and that he's worried about me because of it."

There was a long silence. "And you agree with him." It wasn't a question—more an observation.

"I thought about it for hours before I could fall asleep last night. Or this morning, I guess I should say." Shrugging, I added, "And it still made sense after I'd slept, so I figured I'd better do something about it."

"Um... I don't mean to pry—"

"Don't worry about that, Daphne. If I didn't want you to pry, I wouldn't have said anything to you."

She nodded. "Justin told me a couple of times that he's worried about how much you smoke and drink."

"Oh, I've been aware for a long time that I'm a borderline alcoholic and that I take too many drugs."

"Addictive personality, maybe? That would explain a lot. The drugs and alcohol, the sex—"

I hummed in agreement.

"—coming to the hospital every day."

That one I ignored. "Both of my parents are alcoholics, so I've probably got that addiction gene, or whatever the fuck it is."

We were both quiet for a few minutes before she asked, "What made you decide to see a therapist about it? Because you obviously didn't worry much about your drug and alcohol habits. What changed?"

"The way Vic talked last night... I guess with the other stuff... it didn't matter to me that I felt like I _needed_ the alcohol or the drugs in order to unwind, or deal with stress, or forget about whatever problems I was dealing with. But the idea that sex isn't fun for me anymore, that it's a compulsion? _That_ is a serious problem. I love sex, or at least I used to. No, I still do, but it isn't as satisfying or as fun anymore. And that's bullshit. I don't want it to become a fucking _chore_."

Daphne laughed at the pun. With a serious tone, she said, "I can understand that. Not that I have any personal experience in the matter," she added ruefully, "but Justin talks about sex all the time—probably because he's always talking about you. He's in it for the fun, and because it's a way for him to spend time with you."

The words she used reminded me of what Vic had said the night before. "Something fun that you can share with somebody."

"Huh?"

"It's the way Vic described to me what sex should be, instead of what it's become, in my case."

Nodding, Daphne said, "Something fun to share with someone you care about, is how I'd put it. And a way to express how you feel about them."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "That's not _all_ that sex is, though. Sex with strangers can be pretty incredible."

"But that's about your body's physical needs," she argued, looking at me pointedly. "Anonymous sex is fine, but it isn't going to be as fulfilling as being with someone you have genuine feelings for. It's why most people commit to monogamy when they're in a relationship. And especially in marriage."

Shaking my head, I asked, "Don't you think it'd get boring, only having sex with the same person for the rest of your life?"

"Well, remember I don't actually have any experience one way or the other," she pointed out, "but I wouldn't think so. As long as the feelings are still there on both sides, I think the sex would still be good. The mind is a pretty powerful thing. It's actually what I want to study. I'm going to be a psychologist."

"Too bad you aren't already," I said seriously. "Then I wouldn't have to pay some stranger to fix me. I could just make you do it."

Daphne hit me in the arm with the back of her hand, but she was smiling.  "I'd still charge you. I've seen your loft—no way I'd treat you for free."


	6. Conversing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I mentioned this, but: in _Breakneck_ , there's no mention of whether Jack Kinney died yet, so in this fic, he's still alive. His cancer wasn't quite so advanced when he told Brian about it the weekend of the Leather Ball. (It's not important yet, but it will be, so I thought I'd let you know.) Everything else with Jack happened—Brian's confession, Jack's offering of the photo, meeting Gus—he just didn't die.

* * *

 Chapter Five: **Conversing** **  
**

 

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

I looked up from the book I was reading to Luke—this time it was _The Hobbit_ —to see the very last person I ever wanted to interact with again.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Craig Taylor's face went red, his chin raising and posture tensing up. "It's my son in the hospital, isn't it?"

Sneering at him, I asked, "Oh, is it? I was under the impression that you weren't acknowledging Justin as your son any longer."

"I'm only going to ask this once more: why the fuck are you here?"

"Oh," I said pleasantly, smiling at Craig and pulling Luke to me securely. "Didn't you know? Justin gave me his Power of Attorney and temporary guardianship of Luke, in case something ever happened to him. In fact, Luke and I have been here with Justin every day since he got hit. Funnily enough, none of the nurses has mentioned you visiting at all."

With a nasty look on his face, Craig snarled, "I'm a successful business man, I don't have that kind of time, to be spending it sitting around a hospital room. And it's not like Justin would even know I wasn't here!"

I snorted. "Yeah, because it's not like anyone could _tell_ him whether or not you visited. Not that I think he'd bother to ask, anyway. I doubt he'd want you here. And don't think you can get away with that bullshit—I'm a businessman, too, and I make a hell of a lot more than you do, and I've managed to be here for at least an hour every day because I know that Luke needs to be with his dad as much as possible."

"You listen here," he retorted lowly, taking a meant-to-be-threatening step in my direction. "I want you to stay the _fuck_ away from Justin, do you hear me? You've done enough damage to my family, dammit!"

I carefully set Luke down on the bed as far from Craig as I could before standing and facing the man. "Justin is a legal adult—you no longer have any authority to dictate anything about his life. The 'damage' that you claim I did to your family? Newsflash: it was _your_ doing, Craig. Not mine. You couldn't accept your son as a teenage father, or as a gay man. That's _your_ problem, _your_ fuck-up."

"YOU are the one that seduced him, perverted him!"

I laughed at that. "I guess you haven't heard the story about the night we met, then? Justin came to Liberty Avenue that night looking for a guy to have sex with. I met him outside a club and took him home with me. We fucked"—Craig flinched at that—"he spent the night, and I took him to school the next morning. I thought that was the last I'd see of him, but he wouldn't hear of it. _Your son_ is the one who pursued me. I suggest you get your head out of your ass and face reality, Craig Taylor: your son is queer; he always was, and he always will be!"

Face nearly purple with rage, Craig demanded, "Then explain Sara! Explain Luke! Neither would have been an issue if Justin was really gay!"

Luke started to fuss a little, so I put my hand gently in his hair, the way I'd seen Justin do countless times to show the kid that he had everything under control. Turning back to Craig, I said, "I guess you never bothered to talk to him about that, either. Do you know your son at all? He and Sara both thought they might be gay, so they had sex. They made a mistake by not using protection. Nine months later, there's Luke. But even if the circumstances of Luke's conception aren't what you'd like them to be, he is still your grandson, and Justin is still your child, and you tossed them out of your life like yesterday's trash. So I suggest you leave, now, before I get security to throw _you_ out."

"You can't do that to me! I'm his father!"

"And according to the law, I have the right to say who can see Justin while he's in a coma, and who can't. So get out before I make you."

I could tell that Craig wanted to respond, but for once he did the smart thing and took me seriously. He spun angrily and left the room without another word.

When I'd gotten Luke in my arms again, I sank heavily into the chair, trying to get my breathing back under control and lessen the tension in my muscles so that Luke would relax, too.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

That night, I managed to find a Disney movie on TV that Luke was actually interested in watching. I set him down on a blanket on the floor to watch while I worked on a few presentations on my laptop. Halfway into _Aladdin_ I got an email from Cynthia with the details of the therapy appointment she'd made for me for Monday morning. I sighed and looked up the address online so I'd know how to get there.

Fuck, was I really going to do this? I'd always felt that therapy was a crock of shit—who needed some stranger prying into their private life and telling them what to do? But even if I'd never admit it, the real reason I'd never considered therapy was because I just don't like to tell people about how fucked up I am. It wasn't like I didn't _know_ I've been messed up since I was a kid. I knew my parents had done a number on me, and the sex and booze and drugs just compounded shit.

But if things were falling apart enough that sex was now a _problem_ instead of a solution, then I had to do something. If I tried therapy and it didn't help, I'd figure something else out at that point.

Luke lost interest in the movie soon after that, and he came over to me with the blanket I'd set him down on. "Uh, Bi!"

Smiling, I pulled him up onto my lap. "You want to watch the rest here with me?" I asked softly. He snuggled into me and babbled a little while pointing to the TV. He giggled madly at Genie turning into a bee, and I couldn't help squeezing him a little tighter. The little fucker was adorable when he laughed.

About ten minutes later, he was sound asleep on my lap.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

I woke the next morning, not to baby babbling, but to the door buzzer. I quickly dragged myself out of bed, put on a pair of jeans, and went to answer it. "What do you want so fucking early?"

Debbie's voice answered. "Open up, asshole!"

"That's what he said," I answered her, smirking and pushing the button to let her in. I pulled open the loft door and went to check on Luke. As he was still sleeping, I adjusted the blanket over him and left him alone. Curious, I looked at the clock in my room. "Fuck! It's not even seven o'clock yet!"

"Well I know you weren't up all night fucking, since you were here with Luke, so what's your excuse this time?"

I turned to tell her that Sundays didn't need an excuse, but I noticed that she wasn't alone. Jennifer was with her.

Immediately alert, I asked, "What happened?"

Jennifer crossed her arms and huffed, "Craig's what happened."

"Hey," I said lowly, immediately defensive, "I have every right to tell him he can't visit Justin."

"Of course you do," Jennifer said, no trace of sarcasm.

".... Huh?"

She smiled at me, amazingly. "I said, of course you have the right to do that. In fact, I'd have done it myself in your shoes. But that wasn't what I was going to say."

"Oh," I said, rather lamely. I invited the women to sit down, checked again on Luke (still sleeping) and sat in a chair across from the sofa. "What did the prick do, then?"

Jennifer fidgeted with her hands for a moment. "He told me he's taking Justin off of his insurance. It wouldn't be effective until next month, if he does, but if Justin needs physical therapy when he wakes up..." A few tears leaked out of her eyes as she said, "I can't get Justin set up on my insurance for another couple of months, and I certainly don't have the money to pay for treatment without insurance. I... didn't know what to do, so I went to see Debbie this morning."

I looked at my surrogate mother, who was looking pointedly at me. "What, you want me to put him on _my_ insurance? How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"Can't you call him a 'domestic partner' or something?" Deb asked me.

"Okay, hold up," I nearly growled, standing and beginning to pace. "First of all, for that to work, we'd have to live together, which we don't. And we _can't_ , because there's only one bedroom, so technically it'd be illegal for Justin and Luke to live here, because there'd be three people in one sleeping space—not to mention they'd have to be living with me for a set period of time before they'd be considered permanent residents, anyway. I'm also not sure that my company's insurance will cover 'domestic partners' or whatever-the-fuck. And lastly, _Justin and I aren't in a relationship_!"

Debbie sighed. "Only because you're a stubborn ass. But if you're sure that you couldn't do it without them living here, then it's a moot point, anyway."

I ignored her comment and turned to Jennifer. "I can't put him on my insurance, but... it's my fault Craig is doing this, so I'll pay for whatever medical expenses Justin incurs between being dropped from Craig's insurance and being added to yours."

"Oh, Brian," Jennifer protested, standing, "I can't ask you to do that!"

Shrugging, I pointed out, "You didn't ask, I offered. And it's only right, like I said. If I hadn't pissed Craig off, he might not have decided to cut Justin off completely."

"That asshole," Debbie muttered. "He would have done it anyway. It took him a full fucking week to even go see his son once!"

"I honestly wasn't expecting that he'd go at all," Jen answered. "When he showed up last night swearing and shouting and demanding I do something about it, I was totally shocked that he'd even gone to the hospital at all. I wish I could say that his decision to completely cut Justin out of his life was more of a surprise."

Watching Jen's expression and body language while she spoke of Craig's visit got me suspicious. "Jennifer, did he hurt you?"

She looked surprised. "No! Well, for a moment it looked like he wanted to. But, no, he didn't hit me. And Molly spent last night at a friend's house, thankfully. She doesn't even know that he came by."

"If he hurts you—"

Jen smiled at me. "Thank you, Brian." All I could do in response was nod.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

I took my laptop with me to the hospital that day. Daphne had told me the day before that she'd be by for a couple hours and could keep an eye on Luke, so I figured I could get some work done.

Of course, that turned out to be the day that _everyone_ decided to visit, so I wasn't able to concentrate as much as I would have liked to.

Mid morning, Ted and Melanie stopped in. Mel sat in the chair opposite me and Ted perched on the end of Justin's bed. Melanie and I hadn't seen each other since the scene in the diner a week before, and I was still pissed at her, so I ignored them and focused on helping Luke put the colored rings on his toy in the correct size order. It wasn't the most stimulating activity, but it beat talking to the bitch bull dyke.

Ted was the first to say anything to me, though they'd been having a quiet conversation between the two of them. "So, Bri... how're things with you and Luke?"

"Alright," I said, shrugging. "He's been missing Justin a lot, asking for him all the time and throwing random temper tantrums. But he does well at night and when Vic and Deb are watching him. He's been to the day care at my work twice, and they haven't had any serious problems."

Melanie had a surprised look on her face, but I ignored her.

Until I had no choice, that is. "How often have you pawned him off on someone so you could go out fucking and sucking?"

The reminder of the incident with the leather ball—which, in my defense, had everything to do with my fucking father and nothing to do with being unable to handle taking care of Gus for one night—instantly got my back up. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Mel. And if I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me anyway, so I suggest you leave off."

It was true: she wouldn't believe I'd only gone out once. But the way I'd said it implied that I hadn't at all, which is what I wanted her to believe.

"Have you talked to Justin's mom much?" Theodore tactfully asked.

(Thank God for Theodore, and isn't _that_ something I'd been thinking an awful lot in the last couple of weeks.)

"Pretty much every week night, because we're usually here at the same time. And she came by the loft with Debbie this morning."

"Why would she come by the loft?" Mel's voice was still a little angry, but I ignored the tone.

"Justin's asshole father showed up here yesterday. When he started spouting off about how I turned his kid gay, I set him straight and kicked him out. He went to Jennifer's place last night to complain to her about it. And the fucker said he's going to remove Sunshine from his medical insurance at the end of the month. Jennifer's freaking out a little, because she thinks it'll take a while for her new work to set Justin up on her insurance."

Melanie was finally quiet at that, but Ted asked, "Why did she come to see you? She didn't ream you out for defending Justin's sexuality, did she?"

"Amazingly," I murmured, "no, she didn't. Actually, she and Debbie were wanting to know if I could put him on _my_ insurance, which is fucking _not_ happening. But I did offer to pay his medical expenses between being covered by his dad and getting set up through his mom. It's because of what I said to him that he's dropping Justin." I rubbed a hand over my eyes, trying to massage away the pressure headache that had been a background throb for the past three days. When I dropped my hand, Ted was smiling at me.

"That was really generous of you, Bri."

I shrugged, turning to Luke who was pulling on my sleeve and repeating my name over and over. "What, Luke?"

"Po, Bi! Wan Po!"

Looking shrewdly at him, I asked, "Say 'please'?"

"Pe Po, Bi!"

I smiled and reached into the diaper bag to retrieve the stuffed hippo. "Here you go, little man. Say 'thank you.'"

Luke smiled at the hippo and babbled something that sounded nothing like 'thank you,' but I let it slide.

When I looked up, Melanie was looking at me with a completely shocked expression. Ted simply turned to Luke and said, "Luke, is that your hippo? He's awesome!"

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

Daphne was the next to show up. She arrived just as Ted and Melanie were saying their goodbyes. Once they were gone, she turned to Luke. "So, Lukester, should we let Brian do some work? Come here, Aunt Daphne will read to you."

As I pulled out my laptop, I said as casually as possible, "We've been working on _The Hobbit_. Chapter six, I think."

"Oh, _really_?" I ignored the smug, knowing smile that she shot me and got to work.

About an hour later, Daphne pulled me away from my computer, insisting that we all go down to the cafeteria for lunch. "You need to get out of this room. I know it's important that Luke spend time with Justin as often as he can, and I know you want to be there, too, but you'll go spare before long if you don't get out more. Just for lunch, and then we'll go right back. I promise."

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

After our lunch, I went back to working on my laptop, Daphne still entertaining Luke. I hadn't been working long when Lindsey and Gus showed up. I put my computer away and stood to get my son.

"Hey, Sonnyboy!" I smiled at him. "How've you been?"

"Hi, Lindsey," Daphne said, giving her a wave.

"Oh," Lindsey said, surprised, "hello, Daphne. I didn't know you'd be here."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "With finals coming up soon, I can really only be here on the weekends."

Lindsey nodded, seeming distracted. After a moment, she turned to me and said, "Brian, can I talk to you?"

"No one's stopping you."

"Um... I'd rather we speak privately."

Sighing, Daphne stood. "I can take a hint. I'll just go stretch my legs for a while."

"Thanks, Daph," I said as she left. When Lindsey had sat down, I asked, "So what happened?"

Playing with the hem of her shirt and looking down, she said, "I think I'm going to break up with Mel."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "You two are ridiculous. You've been together seven years, and you've broken up and gotten back together almost as many times."

"No, Brian, this time I'm serious."

"God, Lindsey... what makes this time any different? Except, of course, that the three of us are now parents, so you two separating will also affect Gus."

At least she looked a little guilty at that. "I know. And I don't want to cut Melanie out of Gus's life, not at all. I just don't think we can live together anymore."

Luke reached out his hands to me at that moment. "Uh, Bi!"

"But I'm holding Gus."

"Wan uh, Bi! Pe!"

I sighed, shifted Gus into one arm, and looped the other around Luke's waist, pulling the blond off the bed and onto my left leg. Luke turned to Gus then and started to gently pat his hair, babbling away and looking at my son like he was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

Still smiling, I turned back to Lindsey, who had an almost angry look on her face. "What, Linz?"

"I just don't think you taking care of Luke is a good idea."

Forcing myself to close my eyes and breathe deeply, I asked, "What the fuck does it matter to you and Mel if I'm Luke's temporary guardian?"

Luke, Gus, and I were all startled when Lindsey practically erupted. "Because he's going to get attached to you, Brian! He's going to get used to you being around, and when Justin recovers and takes Luke back, it'll be bad for the kid not to see you anymore. You already don't see your own son enough—you don't need to be letting down other people's kids, too."

I reflexively tightened my hold on Luke and Gus, knowing that Luke was about to start reacting to the tense atmosphere. As calmly as I could manage, I said, "I spend time with Gus when the opportunity presents itself, you know that. Yeah, I wasn't so great at it right after he was born, but things have changed since then. I've taken him for nearly a whole week, if you remember. And part of the reason—not all of it, of course, but a part—is because Melanie doesn't trust me with Gus.

"She barged into my home because she didn't trust me even without evidence, she assumed Justin didn't know what he was doing—which was utter bullshit, by the way, and I totally support him telling her off for that—and she made no secret of the fact that she thinks I'm incapable of looking after Gus ever since that weekend. I know you two have been rocky, and I didn't feel like getting in the middle of it by asking to see Gus more often than our weekly 'family' dinners. And yeah, part of it is just that I'm still getting used to being a father, still a philandering asshole a lot of the time, but it isn't all me, Lindsey.

"So don't you dare tell me that I don't see Gus enough. He has three parents he spends time with, it's a given that one or the other isn't going to see him as often. And as evidenced by the fact that Luke is still doing very well, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my infant son.

"And since we're back to Luke: do you think he'd be half as comfortable with staying with me if he wasn't used to seeing me? Justin brings Luke to the loft nearly once a week, now. And before that, I saw the kid a couple times a week at Deb's."

Lindsey, who had been frowning at her hands with a furrow in her brow, snapped her head up at that. "You... you see _Justin_ 's kid more than you see your own son?!"

This time, I did roll my eyes. "Because he actually _wants_ Luke and I to spend time together, Linz. He brings Luke even when I tell him not to, because he actually thinks I'm good for his kid, or he's good for me, or whatever-the-fuck, and who the hell knows _why_ , but there you go. The point is, Melanie would complain if I spent much more time with Gus than I do, but Justin is always trying to get me to see Luke more often. I'd love to spend more time with my kid, but your bull dyke lawyer girlfriend doesn't like that idea."

"Well," Lindsey admitted quietly, "that's one of the reasons I think she and I should end it. I don't like that she wants to keep Gus away from you—you're his biological father! I know she's angry about the parental rights thing—"

"That's something else I don't get about her," I interrupted. "How can she think I'm a bad father if I refused to give up my rights because I don't want to let Gus down, don't want him to think I don't want him? That's completely counter-intuitive."

Shrugging, Lindsey suggested, "I think she's bitter about the legal system, that she can't have the same legal rights as a biological parent without one of the biological parents giving up their own."

"Then why take it out on me?"

She sighed, irritated now. "Because, Brian, you offered your sperm—you didn't want to be a father."

I looked at her seriously. "Do you think I actually would have done it if I didn't want to be a father?"

"But... but you _said_ —"

"Yeah, I know what I said, Linz. That's not the point."

Her forehead creased in confusion again, but at that moment, Daphne walked back in, holding a Styrofoam cup. "God, the coffee here is awful, but at least it's caffeine."

I smiled at her, grateful for the interruption. Lindsey and Daphne made small talk for a while, Luke and Gus and I playing with a couple of Luke's toys. Well, it was more like Luke periodically waved different toys in Gus's face while I picked up dropped items and made sure neither of them fell off the bed.

When it became apparent that we wouldn't get any more alone time, Lindsey picked up Gus and left.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

"So what was that about the weekend Mel went ballistic on you?"

I groaned, put my work away, and turned to Daphne. "Did Justin tell you about the weekend of the Leather Ball?"

"Just that he and Luke were hanging out at your place that night while you went out. You had Gus that weekend, right?"

"Yeah. It was short notice—Lindsey didn't know that she'd have to go away to a conference that weekend, and Melanie had already left to visit her mother for a few days. I was going to give up going to the Leather Ball at Babylon, but my dad... well, shit happened with him that weekend, and the addictions started nagging at me—yeah, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure I've got a sex addiction, fuck! Anyway, I needed Babylon for a couple of hours, just to get my mind off all the shit going on, so Justin offered to watch Gus for me.

"Mel got home early and heard her message from Lindsey about me taking care of Gus. She flipped out, worried that I wouldn't be able to take care of him, and she barged in on Justin. He was trying to get Gus's bottle ready while also feeding Luke, which you can imagine would be quite the feat. He heated the bottle a little too long.

"Well, Melanie walked in to see Justin holding both Gus and a too-hot bottle and jumped to the conclusion that Justin was going to give it to him like that. She didn't even wait to find out what was going on, she just freaked and ranted. I walked in a moment later, and she rounded on me, talking bullshit about how being a parent meant you couldn't just leave your kid with someone to go out for a couple hours. I was drunk—again, the stress management thing—so I couldn't really focus enough to argue with her all that well, but Justin...."

Daphne smirked. "Did he ream her ass?"

I laughed, smiling over at Sunshine's sleeping form. "Yeah, he did. He gave me Gus and told me to take him and Luke in the bedroom so he could shout without feeling guilty. I could hear everything he was saying anyway, but it kept the kids occupied. Justin went off on her about jumping to conclusions, and being judgmental. And then he called her a hypocrite—going out of town and leaving Gus with Lindsey so she could get out for a while, using a babysitter for dinners and work functions and dates with Lindsey, and then getting mad at me for using a babysitter. And he pointed out that I hadn't known till that morning that I'd be watching Gus. He purposely didn't mention the shit with my dad, but he knew about it." I was still looking at Justin, my smile faded now to a serious expression. "He's a fighter, when he's angry."

Giggling, Daph said, "I wish I'd gotten to see Melanie's face! I bet it was priceless. So what happened then?"

"Justin told her that she was welcome to take Gus home with her, but that she'd better think next time before she started yelling at me. Ever since, Mel's done whatever she could to avoid me getting to spend time with Gus."

"That's bullshit!" Daphne saw Luke's reaction to her outburst and dropped her volume. "Did she not listen to anything Justin said?"

I shrugged. "With everything else that's supposedly going on with the munchers, I'd guess it has something to do with her thinking I'm going to take Gus away from her completely."

"Which is also bullshit," Daphne insisted. "You love Gus—taking him away from one of his parents without reason wouldn't be a loving thing to do. She's an idiot."

I smiled. "No argument there."

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

Debbie and Emmett brought dinner for Luke and I. Daphne had left more than an hour before, and I was grateful to pass Luke off to Emmy Lou for a while. Over the last couple of months, he'd become pretty comfortable with the kid. And I was pretty sure that Luke liked his Auntie Em quite a bit, too.

While I ate, Debbie asked, "Any ideas what Sunshine's gonna do when he gets out of the hospital?"

"What do you mean?" I asked around a bite of mostaccioli.

"He's been saying for a month that he plans to get a place of his own after graduation. But he's gonna need someone around to help him, especially with Luke, so that's no good. But Vic and I won't be around enough for that. Jen could probably do it, but Sunshine won't like the idea. Plus she doesn't exactly have enough room—"

"Debbie! God, _please_ , I can _not_ think about this now. I have too much shit to be dealing with already. We'll figure that out when it's time, okay?"

She looked immediately contrite. "Sorry, kiddo, you're right. You've got plenty to occupy your mind right now. Sorry, honey."

I sighed, going back to my dinner with less enthusiasm than before. Now she'd mentioned it, I knew I wouldn't be able to get it out of my head. Christ, that was _just_ what I needed, another thing to think about.

Did I have to solve _every_ _single problem_ in our family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The adjusted "post-Leather Ball" scene is my headcanon. I always thought that it was kind of stupid for Justin not to know about hot bottles—he's got a sister who's anywhere from six to ten years younger than he is, so I think he'd be familiar with how to make a bottle. Not to mention, he's filled with random information, so I'm sure he'd know about this even if he _didn't_ have a kid of his own, or a sister young enough that he would remember her infancy. And since Justin knew Brian had just found out his dad had cancer, he'd understand why Brian had needed to go to Babylon that night. And Justin is _**SO**_ the type to tell off someone who's being a jerk, so he wouldn't just sit there and listen to Melanie yell at Brian when his actions were totally understandable and justifiable.
> 
> Okay, rant over. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you think so far! :D


	7. The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I'm back to this, it's like, gushing. You have _no idea_ how many times I changed things in this chapter. Seriously, I've probably been over it like fifty times in its entirety since the first draft. It's frustrating when a chapter takes that long for me to be happy with it, but I'm beyond pleased with the result, so I'll take it. I hope you enjoy it, too!

* * *

Chapter Six: **The Doctor  
**

 

"Mr. Kinney? Dr. Harris is ready for you."

The young curly-haired redhead beckoned for me to follow her down the narrow hall off the waiting room. She opened the third door on the left for me with a smile that was distinctly flirtatious. I smiled slightly in response. "Thank you." If it hadn't been a professional setting, I would have told her she was barking up the wrong tree.

Inside the large office, another woman with curly red hair sat at a desk, doing something on her computer. When the receptionist closed the door behind me, the woman stood and faced me. "Mr. Kinney? Chantel Harris."

"Brian," I corrected her, shaking her outstretched hand. "It's nice to meet you, Dr. Harris."

"Oh, Chantel is fine. Have a seat, Brian. Wherever you like."

I plopped down into a soft armchair along the side wall while she took her seat and spun to face me."Your assistant Cynthia told me that you suspect you might have a sex addiction, among others, and that's why you wanted to see me. Is that correct?"

I nodded. "Yeah. A close friend mentioned to me that he's been worried about me lately. And if sex is becoming something I _have_ to have instead of something that I just enjoy, that's a serious problem."

Chantel nodded. "So here's how this is going to work. You're a new patient, so our session today is going to be two hours. For the most part, I'm just going to get to know you. At the end of today's session, we'll talk about how often we should see each other, what your goals are, that sort of thing. Sound good?"

"Yeah," I drawled sarcastically. "Just peachy."

"Skeptical of therapy, huh?" When I nodded, she just smiled all the more brightly. "I'll look at this like a challenge, then. Unfortunately, Brian, if you want my help in getting over your addictions, you're going to have to let me get to the root of the problem. That means talking to me. Why don't you start by just telling me about yourself? Anything you want to say, whatever you think is relevant or that you need to get off your chest." She pulled out a pen and notepad and settled back in her chair.

I took a deep breath and tried to do as she asked. "Okay. Um... I'm thirty. I work for Ryder Advertizing; I'm one of the top executives, up for partner soon. And I'm gay."

"Oh," Chantel sighed, "won't Charlotte be disappointed."

Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Who?"

"My sister, the receptionist. When she let me know you were here, she felt the need to inform me that you're... oh, what was the phrase she used? Something like 'hotter than a summer day on the Sun' or something equally ridiculous."

Laughing, I said, "Well, I'll take a compliment on my looks no matter who it's from. Sorry to disappoint her." Chantel indicated for me to continue, writing on the notepad every once in a while as I did so. "Well, I guess family would be a good thing to mention. Um... I have an older sister; she's divorced and has two kids, both boys. And both my parents are still alive, but my dad has pretty advanced cancer, so he probably won't be around much longer."

She raised an eyebrow at my matter-of-fact delivery of that news, but I didn't want to get into it unless I had to, so I moved on. "But I don't really get along with anyone in my biological family. My friends are more like a family for me."

"Tell me about them. What makes them special?"

"Well, I met Mikey our freshman year of high school, so we've known each other since we were fourteen. We were best friends for a long time—up until a few months ago." That was another thing I didn't want to talk about, so I moved on quickly. "His mom, Debbie, is like a mother to me. And her brother Vic and I are pretty close, too. Mikey and Vic are both gay, too, which was good for me, as a kid. It... meant I wasn't alone."

"Your biological family disapproved?"

I shrugged. "I was in college when my sister found out, by accident. She came to see me without calling first—kind of a shock for her to catch me in bed with a guy."

Chantel laughed. "I can imagine so."

I smirked, but then got serious as I added, "Claire didn't approve, but since it doesn't affect her, she basically ignores it.

"My mom... she still doesn't know. She's a _very_ devout Catholic, though—my dad calls her Saint Joan—so I know pretty much what she'd say about it. When my dad told me he has cancer, I came out to him." I laughed bitterly once. Looking down at my hands, which were clenched on top of my thighs, I said quietly, "He said that I should be the one dying instead of him."

There was the sound of movement, but I didn't look up. Chantel crouched on the floor in front of me, but didn't touch me, and said, "That he said such a thing to you, Brian, is completely inexcusable. And not only that, but he's _wrong_."

I looked at her, nodded slightly, and then sat up straight, trying to make it look like that whole incident bothered me less than it really did. When she'd sat back down in her chair, Chantel asked, "Is there anyone else in your surrogate family?"

"Yeah," I answered, grateful for the change in subject. "I met Lindsey my freshman year of college. She was a sophomore, and we had an intro math course together. We've been friends ever since. And we were really very close, up until a few months ago."

"Hmmm, I'm sensing a pattern, here."

I nodded. "Everything started to go to shit around October, November maybe." I sighed. "But to understand all that, you have to know about everybody else in the group.

"Melanie is Lindsey's partner. They've been together for seven years. Mel and I would probably be friends, except Linz has always had a thing for me—a platonic crush, I guess—and Mel's been jealous of it since before we met. We've pretty much been at each others' throats the entire time we've known each other.

"What makes it even more complicated is that Lindsey asked me about a year and a half ago to father a child for her and Mel. Linz carried the baby, and Gus was born last August."

Chantel cocked her head. "So you're a father, then. Just Gus?"

"Um, yeah. No other lesbians have asked for my sperm," I said, smirking a little bit. There was Luke, but I had to get to Justin first, and there was a lot more to cover before the night he and I met. I explained to Chantel how Mikey and I had met Emmett and Ted, and then I went quickly over the general dynamics of the group, including my reputation in the family and on Liberty Avenue. I never sugar-coat anything about myself, so being honest to Chantel wasn't too difficult—there are plenty of reasons why my 'family' members call me an asshole.

When I'd finished explaining the family's pre-Justin dynamics, Chantel asked, "And Gus being born, is that when things started to change?"

"Yeah, but that's not the only reason. The night Gus was born was also the night I met Justin."

Chantel raised an eyebrow. "Boyfriend?"

"No," I said, grimacing at her. Then I shrugged. "I've never been in a relationship, and I've never wanted one. The family seems to think Justin and I are boyfriends, but neither of us has made any kind of commitment, so the answer is 'no.'"

She nodded with a slight smile. "But you care about him." It wasn't a question.

I sighed. "Fuck it. Yeah, I do."

Oddly, it felt really good to say that out loud.

"So tell me about Justin."

"Well, when I met him outside Babylon, he was just a hot twink. Oh, um, young guy, thin, usually pretty enthusiastic about sex. The gay equivalent of the 'blonde bimbo.'"

"Ah. Go on. What was special about Justin?"

"I was horny, it was late, I'd never seen him before, he was hot. And when I first talked to him, I realized that he was probably a virgin."

She nodded, making some more notes on her notepad. "So initially, it was purely physical."

"Of course. But before we could get to much, I got a call from Mel, who told me that Lindsey had given birth and that I needed to come to the hospital and see my baby."

I told her how Justin had finally admitted to me that he was only seventeen, and she was a little surprised, but not disapproving, thankfully. I explained to her about telling Justin a little bit about my first time, even though I'd only ever told Mikey, who had never actually heard the whole story either. I told her about Justin going with us to the hospital, that he was the one that chose Gus's name, that I took Justin back home, took his virginity, and woke up next to him. Finally, I added, "I fucked him again in the shower the next morning."

Chantel cleared her throat. "And... I take it that all of this was unusual?"

"Justin's the only guy I've had sex with that has used my shower at all. And I've always stood by my 'no repeats' rule. So to have him again at all, and then for it to be in my shower? Not just unusual— _unheard of_.

"And then Mikey and I took him to school. Like a lot of other guys, he asked me when we could hook up again, and I shot him down. I thought he'd be like every other guy I'd been with and just leave it at that."

"But he didn't?" she asked, taking more notes. "What did he do instead?"

I chuckled. "Practically stalked me for a couple weeks. And then he disappeared for a while. Deb and Emmett were worried about him... and maybe I was too, a little bit. So they sent me to his school, since it was the only thing we knew about his life away from Liberty Avenue, and I told him he'd better get his hot ass back to the diner and to the Ave before Debbie did something drastic." I didn't tell her about the handjob in the parking lot—no need to traumatize the woman.

"So he pursued you for a while, and then you went looking for him."

My face actually flushed at that, dammit. "Not exactly—"

"Yes, Brian," she stressed. "You were concerned, and you went to find him. To justify it to yourself, you used Debbie and Emmett's concern as an explanation, but _you_ missed Justin, too."

I looked down again for a while. I knew she was right, but this kind of stuff... "I don't... this stuff isn't..."

She smiled. "I know. It doesn't come naturally to you to talk about it. That's part of why you're here."

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean? I'm here because I've got a sex addiction."

"Yes," she said, nodding, "but the compulsion had to come from somewhere. Often, addictions result from trying to escape something. In your case, I'm noticing that you avoid emotional attachment, and when you can't avoid it altogether, you at least do whatever you can to keep from talking about it. I think learning to open up about how you're feeling will help you fight the compulsive needs to drink, do drugs, and have more sex with strangers than is healthy."

Smirking, I asked, "Isn't sex supposed to be good for your health?"

"Yes, sex can be very healthy for the body. It's a stress reliever, and exercise. It can help you sleep better. In your case, anonymous sex is a coping mechanism, as well. And there are times when it's necessary for a person to have such mechanisms. But from what I'm hearing, one-night stands aren't working for you anymore, and it's becoming a compulsion rather than a desire. Now is the time to stop using sex as an escape and make it into something emotional as well as physical. You probably won't want to hear this, but sex within the confines of a healthy emotional relationship is very good for the mind as well as the body. And anonymous sex—especially for someone like you, who has no past experience with a relationship that is both emotional and sexual—can do much more damage than it repairs."

"Well, I suppose you're the expert." I don't think I managed to keep all of the sarcasm out of my tone, but Chantel ignored it.

"So, you'd told Justin he needed to come back to Liberty Avenue. What happened then?"

I related the next few weeks to her, how Justin had a schedule set up and would only come out on Fridays at that point. I told her about his mother finding out about him being gay and the art show where Jennifer saw me for the first time. The fight Justin and I had and our subsequent make-up sex seemed intriguing to her, since she took quite a few notes about that.

And then I told her about the night I found out about Luke.

When I'd finished with that part of the story, Chantel said, "He had quite a lot going on, didn't he?"

I nodded. "I told Deb where he was, asked her to take him in. Debbie called Jennifer so she'd know where her son and grandson were. Justin moved in with Debbie. That was around the same time that Michael met David."

Chantel asked me to explain about that relationship, so I did. "That was when stuff really started to go to shit. David isn't any good for Mikey, but I was the only one who could see it. The man has none of the same interests that Mikey does, and his lifestyle is a lot more... oh, I don't know, 'posh'? That isn't Michael. And instead of appreciating all the good things that make Mikey who he is, David tries to change him. They went to Paris, and when Michael came back, he was acting like that one trip to Europe suddenly made him better than the rest of us.

"I didn't make a secret of the fact that I didn't like their relationship, and everyone else assumed that it was because I was being an asshole and didn't want Mikey to spend his time with anyone but me. And yeah, I might have been a little bit jealous of his time, but I would have been fine with it if the guy was actually good for him.

"Mikey broke up with David—who's a chiropractor, by the way, so really well-off—and Debbie was upset. She figured Mikey had done it because he was still hoping that he and I would get together."

Chantel interrupted me. "He's had a romantic interest in you?"

I nodded, feeling a little guilty. "Since we were kids. I thought that he'd pretty much realized that it wasn't going to happen even if I knew he still wanted it. I mean, we'd known each other for fifteen years and nothing had happened between us, so it should be obvious, right? But when I heard Mikey talking about why he let David go, I realized that I'd been wrong. He was still holding out hope. And Deb demanded that I do something to fix it, since she's always seen it as my fault that Mikey never got over his crush on me." Then I explained to Chantel how I had set up Mikey's involuntary outing at his thirtieth birthday party, and the ending of our friendship because of that.

"You pushed him away so he'd feel more free to seek a relationship with someone else."

"Yeah. And Debbie understood it, after her anger had time to cool down. And Justin figured it out, too. But Michael didn't."

Chantel leaned back in her chair. "You might have gone about it in the wrong way, but it's obvious that your heart was in the right place."

I raised an eyebrow. "What would have been the 'right' way?"

"You should have had a serious discussion with Michael about the fact that you can't be romantically or sexually attracted to him. Instead, you set up a party with free-flowing alcohol and drugs, and lots of scantily-clad men, and you made Michael into _you_ and Tracey into Michael."

After a few seconds, that still didn't make sense. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"Michael had feelings for you that you were incapable of returning."

"Yeah."

Tilting her head, she continued, "Tracey had feelings for Michael that he was incapable of returning."

An odd feeling filled my stomach. "Okay."

"If you had just wanted to be an asshole, you could have invited anyone—or hell, _everyone_ —from Michael's work. But you chose Tracey specifically. I think you made that subconscious choice because she would be a better representation of your situation with Michael."

"But how the hell would I have come up with something that complex without meaning to?"

Chantel smirked. "You're an ad man, Brian, and a very successful one, if you're up for partner at Ryder. You work with subliminal messages every day. It isn't surprising that you function that way in your private life, too. I'm sure it's a large part of what makes you so successful."

I processed that idea for a minute, and realized that she was completely right. "Okay, so the whole thing with Tracey was like a living allegory. The problem was that Michael didn't understand it."

"Right. You used Tracey's situation to explain to Michael that you aren't capable of giving him what he wants from you. But Michael was focused on the repercussions to his friendship and working relationship with Tracey, and therefore on the pain that you _intentionally_ caused him, rather than focusing on _why_ you did it. From your descriptions, I'd guess he's far more straight-forward than you. Subtle direction and manipulation are completely lost on him, because he doesn't think to look for it like you do. Because he couldn't see what you'd done  _for him_ , your friendship never got a chance to recover. And I'm guessing that Tracey and Michael's friendship didn't repair itself after that incident, either."

Wow.

Just... wow.

"So... the booze and the drugs and the men... how do they fit in to this?"

With a serious tone, Chantel said, "They were your emotional shields. You knew he wouldn't forgive you if you outed him, and you couldn't bring yourself to simply discuss it with him, so you used your addictions as security blankets. Speaking of which... I assume Justin was there that night?"

I nodded. "He stayed the night again, actually. Vic and Debbie picked up Luke after the party. Actually, I was expecting him to leave with everyone else, but he didn't. We did have another fight, though. Justin picked up on what I'd done right away. He was mad at me for not just talking to Mikey instead of hurting him like I did."

Chantel smiled. "It sounds like Justin really understands you. He must be very intelligent, especially for someone so young."

I shrugged. "He is. But he's had to grow up pretty fast, because of Luke's mom dying and having to raise the kid himself."

Nodding, she asked, "Did you invite Justin to stay over before the party, or during?"

"Before. Why?"

"I thought so," she offered, smirking as she scrawled a few notes down. "You knew you would be emotionally raw after fighting with Michael. You specifically planned not to be alone that night, and to be with someone you trusted. You said you didn't think he'd stay—I think you were hoping extending the rare invitation to stay over would be enough to keep him there, even if he was upset with you."

Blowing out a deep breath, I collapsed back in the seat. "Well, fuck."

She laughed. "Amazing, isn't it, how we can have so little understanding of ourselves?

"So that's what happened with Michael. How about Lindsey?"

I sighed heavily. "Things started to get weird with her when the gang found out about Luke. Linz and Justin were both raised with the country club set. You know, total WASPs."

"Wasps?"

"White Anglo-Saxon Protestants."

"Ah, got it." She nodded for me to continue, making some more notes.

"Linz made it obvious that she didn't approve of Justin being a single teenage father. I don't know what Mel's problem with it was, but they both were pretty clear that they thought Justin raising his kid was a bad idea. And of course Justin picked up on it. At first I thought he was imagining it, but Lindsey's attitude just seemed to get worse. Mel got over it pretty fast, I think, though. Not that they didn't like him—they just had some kind of problem with him being the one to raise Luke.

"Anyway, then something went wrong with the munchers—sorry, lesbians—and Mel cheated. They broke up. Linz almost married a gay French man so that he could get a Green Card. We all tried talking her out of it, but she wouldn't listen to anybody. I eventually threatened to sue for primary custody of Gus if she went through with it, because I don't want him raised by people who are lying to themselves about who they are. _That_ finally got her attention.

"She and Mel got back together a short while after that, but they're still having problems. And Linz and I haven't been the same since the custody threat, either."

Chantel nodded. "That's understandable." She thought quietly for a moment. "Well, we certainly have a lot of ground to cover, Brian. But I'm up for the challenge if you are."

I smirked at the unintentional innuendo. She rolled her eyes at my expression as I answered, "Well, you obviously know your shit, Doc. So, yeah, let's do this."

"Wonderful!" Smiling, she turned to the clock on the wall behind her desk. "We've got about ten minutes left, Brian, so let's talk about a treatment plan."

"Yeah, okay." I sat up straight in my seat again.

"First, I'd like to ask if we can have Justin come in for a session every once in a while. I think it would be helpful."

I felt an invisible hand clench around my heart for a second. "Um... that's something we hadn't gotten to. I... I've got temporary custody of Luke, Justin's son, because Justin's... in a coma. I don't know if you heard that story about the teenager that got assaulted at his prom...?"

Chantel gasped. "Was that Justin?"

"Yeah," I said, ignoring the break in my voice. "He's been in a coma for over a week, now."

"Oh, Brian...."

I rubbed my hands over my face and spoke to my knees. "Mikey just moved to Portland around the same time Justin got hit, Lindsey and Mel might be breaking up again, and I've got custody of a sixteen-month-old baby who needs to visit his father in the hospital as often as possible. On top of that, Vic tells me he thinks my fucking is getting out of hand, and I've known for a long time that the same is true about the drugs and alcohol. That's... that's why I decided I needed to do something about my addictions."

Chantel sighed. "You're right, that's an awful lot of shit happening for you right now."

I laughed bitterly and smiled tightly at her. She scooted her wheeled office chair back to her computer.

"All things considered, would you be able to come to see me two or three times a week? I know with your work schedule and taking care of Luke, that might be difficult to fit in, but I really think you'd benefit from having someone to vent your frustrations to. And since you've got custody of Justin's child for the foreseeable future, it might be wise to get a hold on your addictions as soon as possible."

Nodding, I said, "If it's first thing in the morning, I could handle three times a week. This was a longer session than usual, right?"

"Yes," she said as she typed. "A usual session is about fifty minutes."

"That's fine, then."

Turning back to me, she explained, "I usually don't take patients on Saturdays, but considering your schedule, I think I'll make an exception. Feel free to bring Luke along on those mornings if you need to. How about Monday and Thursday mornings at eight and Saturdays at nine? If we try it and you feel it's too often, we'll cut out the Saturday sessions."

"Alright."

"At the end of most of our sessions, I'll give you a homework assignment. We'll go over the assignment at the start of the next session. Think you can handle that?"

When I nodded, she continued. "For Thursday, I want you to try to pinpoint a general time period when your alcohol use started to get out of control. Same for the drugs and the sex. We'll start with that on Thursday."

"Okay, I can do that."

"Good." She stood and held out her hand. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Brian. And I hope Justin wakes up soon."

I swallowed. "Thanks. The doctors say they're optimistic, but I don't know how much to trust that."

Chantel nodded understandingly. "I'll see you on Thursday morning, then."

"Thank you, Chantel."

I left her office feeling much lighter than I had for months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere in the middle, this started to turn into a meta :/ Speaking of which, if you're interested, I'm on [tumblr](http://shadowfax044.tumblr.com/) now. It's pretty new, so it'll be changing quite a bit, I expect, and I don't have any of my meta stuff (mostly for _Sherlock_ ) ready to post yet, but feel free to check it out anyway : )
> 
> And as always, I love feedback, both praise and constructive criticism, so don't be afraid to let me know what you think!! :D


	8. INTERLUDE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, and isn't really a chapter. This interlude is Brian's first assignment for Chantel. It's sort of like a mental transcript of what he plans to tell her at his next session.

* * *

 

**INTERLUDE**

Brian's First Assignment

**Drinking**

I had my first taste of alcohol when I was eight years old. Jack had his bowling buddies over for beers and to watch a game. He made me bring him a new bottle, and when he'd opened it, he held it out to me and said, "Have some, Brian. It's time you start learning to be a man."

I couldn't really refuse when eight grown men were all watching how I'd respond. So I took the bottle and had a mouthful. I remember thinking it was fucking awful, but I didn't say anything to Jack.

When we were fourteen, Mikey and I got drunk for the first time. I came over to his house after school that day because I didn't want to go home. Mikey patted me on the shoulder and I flinched. Usually, I was good about hiding that kind of shit, but that time it was too painful. He made me take my shirt off and looked at the huge bruise there, asking if it was Jack that had done it. I told him he'd come home the night before completely smashed and tossed me around a bit. I didn't tell him that Jack had told me a story, too—about when he'd found out my mom was pregnant. He dressed her up and took her out just to tell her he wanted her to get an abortion because he didn't want _another fucking kid_. Even though I left out what Jack had said, Mikey could tell that something was really bothering me, besides just my shoulder.

Mikey didn't stop me when I pulled the bottle of cheap liquor out of my backpack and poured us each a full glass.

The next time I drank was at a party with my soccer team. I got completely wasted, but so did all of the other guys, so I didn't really think anything of it.

After that first time, I was more careful not to get too out of it when I drank, but there were two to three parties like that each off season, in high school and in college.

My drinking started getting out of hand when I busted my knee the summer before my sophomore year of college. I knew I wouldn't be able to play for the university anymore, and I thought I would have to drop out of college and resign myself to a crap life like my parents had. That went on for almost a month, getting drunk out of my mind almost every night, until I found out that some academic scholarships were going to come through. I made myself shape up because I couldn't afford to let my grades slip. And then in the middle of my junior year, I got accepted for a summer internship with Ryder with a possibility of getting hired after graduation. I made sure that I never got wasted, and if I had an exam coming up or an unfinished assignment, I didn't let myself drink at all.

When I graduated and got a full-time place at Ryder, I celebrated by getting trashed for the first time in three years. For the most part, I was still doing well after that. But as time went on, I steadily drank more and more, until it was a rare week that I wasn't hung over at least two mornings. That lasted up until Justin's prom. Since Luke is my responsibility right now, I haven't let myself even get buzzed, though I have had a drink now and then, at client lunches and before going to bed.

* * *

**Drugs**

I tried pot for the first time with Mikey. It was junior year of high school. We didn't have the funds to do it often—I was saving for college, and Mikey spent most of his limited income on comic books. But when the drinking picked up in college, so did the weed. And I smoked a lot more often than I drank after I found out I'd get to stay in school. Lindsey was my smoking partner most of the time; she had the money to buy the good shit.

During my senior year of college, I started picking up other drugs, "club" drugs, when I went out to Babylon. My drug use picked up after graduation, too. By the time I was twenty-six, I was using at least one drug, usually poppers or E or Special K, at least once a week.

* * *

**Sex  
**

I lost my virginity when I was fourteen.

There were a few exchanged hand jobs and blow jobs for the next two years, but the next time I fucked, I was sixteen.

When I was seventeen, I started sneaking into bars and clubs with Mikey. I was probably having some kind of sex with a trick once or twice a month at the end of junior through all of senior year of high school. Freshman year of college was pretty close to the same. Well, maybe a little more frequently. It's hard to remember (pun intended).

After I busted my knee, that increased to one or two every week.

And then in the winter of sophomore year... Lindsey and I... had sex. To experiment. She wanted to be sure she was a lesbian, and I was high during the discussion, so we tried it. And then we tried one more time when we were both totally sober. And I've never had any desire to be with a woman at any time since. Pretty sure I'm allergic to pussy.

When our experimenting was over and I was back in my right mind, I started tricking a lot more. Probably three guys a week when I could manage it. And after graduation, it started increasing again. Really, really gradually, though; it went from the three tricks a week when I graduated to twenty to thirty tricks a month around last Christmas. Someone I worked with filed a completely bullshit sexual harassment suit against me after Thanksgiving, and the tricks reduced for a while after that. For a couple months, I was with about ten to fifteen tricks a month instead. But my sex life didn't slow down; Justin was the one picking up the slack.

* * *

 


End file.
